Once born, the chain’s holding us to Fate,
Reasons for which, get to barely be told;
At times is achieved, though slightly late,
What we had deemed improbable to unfold.
Delude to your fullest, O Humblest Human Fear!
Delude the best surviving, of the Human soil:
To a sailing boat, when the shore is most near,
You strike with all might, to defeat the dragging toil.
And strike you must, in your urge to fake:
We saw the shore, but a mirage, no more!…
Till again the boat a-sailing, weary of mistake,
And strike you will, closest to the shore!
The sailor, though struck, but averse to yield
To a hopeless dream, a budding nightmare.
The warrior’s best home is the battlefield,
As Victory to the stubborn, that insists on staying there.