Dreams are like the sprinkle of sand,
flicker from the fingers in a flash,
disappear into dust,
time is fickle,
spectator to our aspirations,
weak at times,
losing the vigor,
walking through thorns,
a ruthless world,
can vilify us,
taking us away from our innocence,
battered and bruised,
ripping us apart,
an ongoing struggle and storm,
piercing the soul,
and harden us,
perhaps, no dream can wait,
helpless we become,
at events unfurling,
that control our existence,
we shall no longer remain the same,
the unrequited love that destroys the good soul,
hope is the only thread we hang on to,
being born again,
maybe our only option,
to re-kindle our dreams
Love
Vishal
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