Fame A Scar On Name Poem by K.S.Subramanian Subramanian

‘Work is its own reward' - so spoke
scions in the eons of time;
Some made a name, others took
anonymity as no scar on their plume.

Fame perhaps a curse on name,
its scars leaving a dull pain,
the world deaf to your cries
heckling at hopes in your domain.

But the scions stuck to their edifice,
a gut feeling with seeds of life;
All sneer and scorn midwife of a
dying order, emitting its last sighs.

Knowing a trapdoor to anguish.
Can it keep the doer on a leash?