Early every morning he rose
With hopes that the sky had given its rain
And the sun will bid him with its shiny grace
To save himself and who he knew he could gain
For life had devoured him, as rust would eat iron
And been conscious of death, he lies in readiness for
The demise – ready to curve out to the slips of lights
Departing the rays his sun had left behind; his actions
And bleeds: the subtle truths that is quite contrary
To greed, his selfless walk that is quiet in ways
Quite convergent as per his words and deeds
He lives his truths, not wishing for death

It might’ve took a lot, but all he need is
To find his peace from the dreadful of looks
Those eyes that are bend on decaying his dreams
The hands that have battled against his bountiful
The very figures he had sought to make proud
A shame – he’d succumbed to let them down
They had baited and waited for their catch
He smiled n’ watched em burn as a torch
For every man fights to make his strike
Each leaving his foes reeking in marks
So that they can tell the ready living
That the unskilled are left for dead

He pats himself alright at his heart
As those twin tears rolled down his eyes
As a child he used to think – that life is going
A little slow, that every day was another go by
That he would just work between his close ties
And let them think he’s unaware of the dealings
That he didn’t know about what they are doing
No one can read mind, so let’s keep it inside
Let us dazzle in this, he says; but at the end
Tis only the pain that controls him the most
This story: a poem that only he can tell
Sorry that he had to let you down

Always Reach Out In The Best Way You Can