Bearing a borrowed birth, and shouldering
The weight of despondent disillusionment;
Exhausted by treading over endless distance
In travail, along the never ending paths,
Among the citadels and snow clad
Pinnacles of love’s hazardous and
Mysterious state ways, where time
Stands still as sentinels, and chaos
Settles in the mind, in that daze.
Like a season of ceaseless rains;
Like the scorching flames of the summer sun.
The drifting pain burning in the memories.
Even when the shores of summer is fading out
Or even when the midnight’s stars are shedding
Their embers, into the gloom below.
I am trotting alone…

Everywhere the grueling rail of darkness
With its hatred extend to the horizon.
With the boundless length of shadows of despair
Dusk creeps up as a riddle in the reminiscence.
Life is becoming sordid and tense.

We are the rickety shadows on the shores;
The wings of the vulture, in the clouds.
Still galloping forward, with gusto.
These unending journeys are the gift of Providence.

Midnight is around the corner.
Sinners are left alone, and the silence
Of a man wandering alone is the wrath of
Endless days and the misery of that man
Who has no rebirth, continues….


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