Friday, May 18, 2007
Enigma of being Second...
Long was the race
It was stamina that mattered and not the pace
I ran till my last breath
But fate did not ordain the wreath.
At a point I was ahead
Swirling across the oval land
I thought victory was in my hand
But it squeezed pass as sand.
I crossed streams, rivers and forest
Gave it in my best
Wanted to unchain procure moments of ecstasy
But luck was the missing key.
Now I am standing beside the winner
Only solaces to hear.
They say I won silver
But I know I lost the coveted metallic colour.
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1 comment:
good prose...specially towards the end...what was the source of inspiration? :P
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