Success Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Failures chasing me till the edge of knife,
I thought: let success be my bosom friend
In this misplaced marathon we call life—
Best friend and companion till journey's end;
Hoped, success would always close to me stay,
Patting me now, or encouraging me,
Letting me glory at the end to see,
And yet success can only be an aide,
A help maid, as milestone on roadside's laid,
That told how far I've come, how far away.
It was this stone that told wither was I,
Warned, better ‘tis to be man of value
Than of success— a monkey on chest nigh,
And deity that demands sacrifice due.
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Sonnets | 06.06.04 |