Don’t you worry, child
It will seem that you are the first oneTo open your eyes in the darkBut my brother, there are many wise menWho know, what’s out thereMaybe that’s the reason for which they choose to keep their eyes closedFor this, is their wisdom
But you, my inexperienced young manWho has to fight his way to take a standWhose blood his on rageWho, for his cause, takes an inappropriate wayAnd is finally suppressed and thrown into a cageFor you my friend, lack wisdom
When in exile, you have the time to exploreYou learn a great deal, to introspect your own soulLet the mind accept your false deedsLet the heart vow to the negative end, you’ll never meet!Block the passage for greed and hateFrom the blue clouds of wisdom, gain knowledge and loveThat’s when you stop cursing your fate! And the day you have the power of forgiveness and smileOnce again, take a stand!Start a journey, as long as an infinite mile
But the moment you find you’ll have to start aloneYou realize your loss caused by the devil of the pastAnd since, you’re stronger than before; you won’t become a cold hearted stoneBecause in your heart you will know,You would get all the parts of your soulBetween the start and the lastGain the strength from the memories of loveAnd thanks god for the people who love you, for he, sent them from above
For change is your causeLet the sufferings of everyone be yoursTo complete your journey to the infinity all
And the day another inexperienced young boy comes to youFighting for the people’s cause, taking a standBut troubled, depressed, upset and running wild
Just show him the way, guide him and tell him “Don’t you worry, child!”-Shantam Sahai
THE FALLEN DAFFODILS
Got a chance to walk in the new gardenConstructed, Down the road, just before a weekBut, as I went round the bushes, Saw some faded flowers ladenAbove them some children playing hide and seek
I grabbed hold of a child hiding behind the fernTo enquire about the perished daffodils"They were Fallen and somebody stepped over", this much I learnedAnd he freed, to couch again, showcasing his hiding skills
Reverting back to the pale flowers, I took them asideTo prevent any further stepping down on themI burrowed them in the ground, side by sideAlong their belongings namely- Leaves and stem
As I stood up, a cool breeze gushed themI gazed back to the buried ones that were in their primesIt felt, as if,souls of the deceased flowers flewBlessing me for their comfort in conclusive times.-Khushi Jalan
Princess Speaks.
What chronicle? Him, omission, his Princess; Was scattered each of his limb, and his concluding villanelle, priceless; Because of, the starlight cast on the artisan, but his gashes always spun;
He boasts with addition utopia, while his poesy marks another era; Angel is the eden, and life for the artisan;
Atrocious to say, cherub tricked, and the artiste bricked; Pretender was he, while he deems, Princess's supreme;
Passion and love resides in one, but Princess's too sharp for the flame; Her, the realistic eden,
but from far carried the blame;-Shantam Sahai