Neelam Kumar Sharma
Come What May - Poem by Neelam Kumar Sharma
After two scores and ten,
Often it occurs to a man-
Something stirs in back of mind,
When one stares years behind.
Ahead one sees a silhouette,
Which one had not thought to see
Until that time, in worlds different,
That were in joy or in pain spent.
Then, slow or fast the years pass,
And the form grows & grows thus
Becoming more and more so clear,
Until it takes a shape familiar.
With it comes a sense of fear,
A melancholic despair-
An angst, a ‘nada’ unknown before,
Feeling of futility- a kind of bore.
As the years climb higher & higher
And the shape starts coming closer,
One may show one of two reactions-
Shrink back, or grow intentions:
To challenge that form or that shape
For a fight, and not escape-
In thought weak, meek, and defeated,
Alive yet but as good as dead.
I, a soldier, not learned to surrender,
Intend to fight and live as before-
Bravely staring it yet not giving up,
As long as body keeps soul in its cup.
Let none assume me a setting sun-
Pale-red and fading while getting down,
Life never meant much to me afore,
And the shape was many times so near.
That its appearance has been much known,
Accepted it have I as mocking clown.
“Dare me! ” say I, “if guts ye have”-
I won’t beg for mercy for outcomes grave.
‘I have lived my own way of life’
Full of challenge and of strife.
What I achieved or didn’t is my own,
Bestowed upon me? I accept none.
So will I live, as one should live,
And accept ultimate- what I believe
As destiny not so bad or so good,
A game that loosing is not to brood.
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