Life is a race.
Its track webbed in oblivion.
Each man borne in his lane.
His will, a necessary companion.
Even at the jaws of despair.
When the heart meets dismay.
The eyes drowned in tears.
Desires are ever in play.
Tying down feelings of remorse.
Trials bid mind renewal.
Each fall drips a better run.
Fate stems at crossroad intervals.
Singing awe or fugitive sighs.
Success brew at d behest of might...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem