In the whispers of the dark,
When by the road, your car you park,
Do not boast of your mighty deeds,
For without humbleness they are just fragile seeds.
Luxury is by no means a signature of esteem,
It is not so powerful even as a torch beam,
Of your poise and position you might scream,
But they are just substantial things as in a dream.
You may go to the moon or swim in a spoon
Climb the Everest or relish a silver boon
Pride hath a fall; it is the way to doom
All success vanishes that once tried to bloom
The sky-scrapers that soar into the blue,
May collapse even without giving a clue,
Height in life is nothing but just a hue,
Without gentleness, it's not even a drop of dew.
The warriors may just reap the field
And plant fresh laurels where they kill
But their strong nerves once may yield
When death would be the end of thrill.
Everything on this planet are just impostors,
They sometimes tumble down in huge clusters,
Like shadows that vanish along with light,
But still we feel pride in 'Might is Right'
The vast ocean is made up of humble drops of water,
And the vast deserts of humble grains of sands.
The unemployed sit idle wasting all man power
Should we still feel shy to work on our lands?
Bowing your head before someone,
Doesn't hinder you from being the best.
It doesn't make you ashamed before anyone,
Instead it helps you elevate all above the rest. :
