Allegory Poems-2 Poem by ashok jadhav

1. The Soul's Journey Through Fog
The road dissolved into breath and gray,
No sun to promise where to stay.
Each step erased the one before,
Yet feet kept moving, seeking shore.
The fog did not betray nor bless,
It asked for trust in nothingness.
And when the veil began to thin,
The soul had learned to walk within.
2. Faith as a Fragile Bridge
A bridge of reeds across the air,
No rails, no signs of sturdy care.
Each step hummed doubt beneath the skin,
The river roared its might below.
The bridge held not because it could,
But because he walked as if it would.
Faith does not promise solid ground—
It asks one step where none is found.
3. Doubt as a Locked Gate
A gate stood rusted in the mind,
No key in sight, no guard assigned.
It whispered, Turn back, you don't belong,
Its silence louder than a song.
He did not break it, curse, or wait,
But learned to live beside the gate.
Some doors unlock when doubt is known,
Not forced apart, but overgrown.
4. Enlightenment as Climbing a Mountain
The peak was hidden from the plain,
A rumor wrapped in cold and strain.
Each height abandoned what it knew,
Each breath grew thin, each vision true.
No flag awaited at the crest,
No voice declared the climber blessed.
Only the sky, immense and clear—
And all the weight he didn't carry here.
5. Time as a Patient Teacher
Time never raised a voice or hand,
It left its lessons unplanned.
A scar, a smile, a fading face
Were chalk upon the board of days.
We begged for answers, quick and bright;
Time gave us years and called it right.
The slowest teacher leaves the mark
That even light can't teach in dark.
6. Death as a Silent Guide
Death walked beside him, never named,
No threat announced, no finger blamed.
It pointed not, it did not speak,
Yet showed what days were strong or weak.
At every crossroad, small and wide,
Life chose more carefully with Death nearby.
The guide who never takes the lead
Teaches what living truly needs.
7. Free Will versus Fate
Two hands pulled tight upon the thread—
One spun ahead, one chose the spread.
The loom sang truths none could deny:
The pattern needs both how and why.
Fate laid the yarn, the color, length;
Free will knotted it with strength.
The cloth was neither forced nor free—
But woven choice inside decree.
8. The Self as a Divided Kingdom
A kingdom ruled by warring thrones,
One heart, but fractured into zones.
The mind declared, the senses cried,
The soul stood mute between their pride.
No crown could end the civil war,
No law could seal the inner door.
Peace came not when one voice won,
But when they bowed to something one.