He woke with a dream in his eyes
To be greatest of all time
But incompetent, born with a cursed life
A failure, a loser, his destiny defined
With burning dreams, burning hope
His soul was burning too
Was at end of his rope
His spirit collapsed, from breakdown, he was going through
He started to believe he is a shame
Was shattered to the core
With sunk heart, his heart was on flame
Like in middle of the desert, completely alone, no one to adore
Cried so much, his tears dried
But soul was crying tears of blood
Was source of shame, failed, no matter how much he tried
People believed, his name is mud.
But somehow, the forlorn child found a pillar of emotion
Who rekindled flashes of desire again
His kind words blown away the desperation
Was like island of hope in ocean of pain
And ignited fire in his eyes
Now he was inspired to persevere
Till he get victory or he die
But will take, what god thought he doesn’t deserve
Grinded away even in the dead of the night
Burned his blood beneath furious sun in a boiling day
Was in so much agony, like blood, pain was running inside
That pain fueled his determination to make his own way
Sometimes, whole night he stayed awake
Cried his heart out
He sobbed, his birth is God’s mistake
But then, “I will be triumph or die trying it “, his inner voices shouted loud.
People laughed at him, a failure, they taunted
As he persisted like mad, all day, all night
Mocked as a hopeless case, a despondent
But he never gave up, he tried, tried and tried
Got stronger with defeat’s every blow
Was in pain, demoralised, broken, but flame never died
Like a river, in his life, time flowed
And every drop of it, he utilised
Once the time came
Proved everyone wrong, even god, who treated him with ignominy
His skills formidable, superlative it became
He forged his own destiny.
© Saarthak Haldar
Poetries on reality 