Walking at my leisure,
I once came to the crossroads,
To be or not to be .....
Was never a question.....
I knew who I am,
I knew what’s best to be done,
With a baggage of hopes on your back,
Even dreams do not remain free,
I have the options to choose my way.....
But with freedom comes responsibility,
And in that alone.....I realised....
What it is ‘to be’ – The Ray of Hope.
The ray of hope to a dying man......
Taking the pain of life in every second.....
With the dream that he would see ....
This ‘hope’ bloom some day......
That his name would not just live......
That glory would turn to glamour.....
That when death comes to embrace.....
He would not be a man of pity........ but proud....
The knowledge of this dream.....
Instils a congruent dream,
Which I call – The Burden of Hope.
The ray of hope to a patient lady....
Who suffered through all the days.....
For family, for traditions and for this ‘hope’......
That someday all the due honour would come,
That cracks would heal....
That bare moments would be full of life.....
That there would be no ‘interest’ on her breadth......
That she would be a proud being......
The realisation of this desperate dream....
Is what I call – The Burden of Hope.
When the bricks of a fort fall......
When life is pity......
And death – a beautiful distant dream....
When unfulfilled life is like immature death .......
And when there is only one single ray of hope.....
It’s his responsibility to fly...... and fly high....
It’s not his choice or freedom......
But the meaning of life – the purpose.....
His is not a free flight .....
But is laden with the baggage of Hope.....
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