there was once in my life,
when my most gallant soul stood this strife;
it was a time when optimism weaned weak,
pessimism darkened every cheer to bleak;
a deep dejection ruled my heart,
and the fear of failure weighed down every thought;
It was the darketh hour,the sky metaphorised my mood,
only was a faint twinkling star, reminding me of how alone i stood;
chirping lullabies, chilling cold kissed me to rest,
i resurfaced again, dressed as warrior on conquest;
all with a sword,in the enemies fort, i had their courage ruptured
alone, I fought thousands, before they had me captured;
millions in camp shouted “hang the enemy, hang the killer”,
just then a little girl kissed my hand and said “you are the hero, you taught them fear”;
a million shouts suddenly seemed to lack voice,
for just a girls kiss was enough to wake again a warriors might;
a loud blaring siren, broke my further bliss;
upright in my bed, filling my ears, was a chilling hiss;
the warrior me, the little girl, the brazen army were all gone,
awakening me to count on, every experience bygone;
these gave me the wings of power to be in the game,
and what blew over me were the wings of change;
Pravin Saraswatula