The speed is full of strong legs,
then why should I stand after standing
when today
the path is in front of me
,
till I can not reach the destination, I have no rest, it is
our job to walk.
Said something, heard something,
some of the burdens have been distributed well,
you have got some path cut off,
Life is incomplete, sometimes it is lost,
sometimes
hope is surrounded by despair,
sometimes weeps, sometimes there is
no movement and mind is not blocked,
its meditation is eight Yama , it is
our job to walk.
Who did not have to flow
happiness and sorrow like us in this vivid world-strike, who did not have
to bear it,
then why should I say in vain,
the creator is left on me,
it is our job to walk.
About the Creator
Priyabrataa Ganguly
Professional writer, foodie, love poems
Keep reading
More stories from Priyabrataa Ganguly and writers in Poets and other communities.
Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Frankly5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.