A Poem for my Beloved Sister


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.