Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Our hands reach out to temporary vanity
Basking in joys of unbounded opportunity
We strive we run achieve and gain
Through pleasure and with equal pain

Dawns a day when in crowds we stand
The teeming throng , the noisy band
In the silence of evening shadows
Loss gain or virtue - passing breeze
We come with none
We go with naught
And still we strive
And still we play
For nothing less than empty hands
We reach to strive we reach to aim
Towards the final path we tread
With empty hands....
What then have we achieved, what gained.


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