The sting, that stabs, beyond the soul
Why hold in heart, this smoldering coal?
Why not forsake, what does it take?
The ageless ache, that pain we make!
We picked it, or it picked us up ?
Why it eats into us, with no let-up?
Devours the soul, mind and heart
Why we feed, its cunning, cruel art
While most fail, to see, through it
The rest, who make, it a creed well-knit
Are the ones, who hear the message clear
The calling of soul, to rise above fear
That smoldering coal, the fuel of our engine
To drive past trials, a daring man’s religion
While most sink down, to wail and weep
The rest hunt the pearls, in this ocean deep
Like a mother, who nurtures, her dream
Pain propels man, for a conquest, to redeem
We sow in our souls, an unsought seed
But to reap true yield, is a real man’s creed
Why squander your tears, over so many years
Blessed springs misspent, over futile fears
Let them instead, deluge soul’s farmstead
Let humanity be fed, on pain’s blissful bread
Why bereave pain, of its pound of flesh?
Why forsake this orphan, from its, earnt crèche?
Let it play its guiles, fortify our mind
It’s the matchless mentor, hard to find
Like the clay, formless, shapeless, its guise
Yet it forms and shapes, a maker in disguise
Of histories of mankind, since time began
God’s hands at work, to make a man
© 2015 Vikas Chandra