Very often we forget the essence of our existence and the society makes us believe in nobody’s dreams. Very often we don’t know the reason of the race we are in and are sold ideas that lead to happiness, as if it is a thing that can be achieved. Very often our own pride is cause of our downfall especially when we are being constantly fed with a stream proclaiming our excellence.
Down the aisle near the Jatrophas
Lies the valley of chosen
Where the dream lives
Of a future all so bright.
So sacred is its might
Flames the nation’s pride
Or so it seems from outside!
I wander like a novice knight
Dismayed, Disarrayed, Disillusioned
Dissolved in the divinity of depressed
Fretting about a future, that only past decides
Profane in my existence, burdened
By my own hubris I have become
A big black stone from inside!
The wide smile bursting into euphoria
Little rag picker found wealth in bin
Knights had left him a parting gift
He would live a day more, I was sure
Dream cannot be contained in valley after all
For future is tomorrow and the day after.
Illiterate, who dreams of today?
The walls of preached presumed
Sanity is in bank accounts after all.
In the marathon, blindness consumed the compass
The race is on, the dream is strong.
The pitstop wasn’t be very long
Directionless, I would still catch on.