Poem – Bleak Hours

 

Plodding through the voyage

Bleak and uncertain

Nothing is clear to the eye

I am getting swamped in the suspicion

 

Far away I see , a little lamp

Struggling tirelessly , valiantly

With the demonic wind

Trying to save its identity

 

The base of the lamp is truth

Truth , that secures me to the ground

The oil is the austerity

Austerity , that gives me strength

Compassion is its wick

Light is the forgiveness

The values that help me radiate.

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