Slowly, Steadily picking up
The pace increasing rhythmically
Beat by beat on a silver track
Metallic steel in contact
The long chambered mode of life,
Lazily swinging from side to side
The heavy train like a growing chain
pulling out from its cozy frame
Sitting peacefully inside,
A man diminishing in pride ...
but Hope still alive inside
His thoughts speak of a burdened life,
A square foot room......
But a spacious heart
A horrid living dream....
But no sign of a scar
Then the sturdy train though slow in pace
Gathers burdens at an alarming rate
A singular pole ,
at the corner doorgoes unnoticed , detoured
No human hanging out his head
No human risking his life on a bet
The man gets up
And slowly looks around
He wonders in disbelief .....
“How can it be??
How is it so??
Isn't there
No ruthless plunderer left,
to grab the pole? "
Then with immense courage
and a pounding heart
and a shivering knowledge of the human race ...
He grabs the post with all his might
A surge of victory in embrace
For once in his life his hopes are glorified
The sense of freedom clear in his eyes
Amidst the chaos
Amidst the noise
His clear heart,
for once dares to smile ........
Fatema
