A poetry about life and its challenges and how to conquer them

A poetry about life and its challenges and how to conquer them


The Boat stuck in the

Muddy patch of water,

The child with a small frail stick

Struggled for its survival, the destination unsure,

Energies dissipated, hard time emerged,

And boat continued to submerge,

The child was tired and sad, but optimistic,

His sleeves turned brown, the white brightness stood no more,

His soft knees pressurized the cold and wet earth,

But all looked vain

As I peeped through my window,

The doors all closed,

The lights all faded, as I prepared for the end,

With the rope tightly hanging from the old English fan,

A strong rope, a strong fan but a weak man,

Was a strange sad experience


The Boat stuck in the

Muddy patch of water,               

With all ways blocked, it has started to wreck,

The boy looked depressed, just like me,

I wanted to offer help – before leaving,

But was afraid, not to lose focus of the End –

The End of all worries and sorrows;

With mixed feelings, I tested the durability of the project once more,

Nobody could deny me success this time, I knew it for sure,

The darkness prevailed all over and I grew stern,

I had all the regrets – killing of birds, destroying nests, harming people,

I repent it now, I wish I to become a humane in next life;

If He forgives me,

Like the boy, I was not able to move anywhere,

It looked like all ambitions are drowning for the Boy,

As the blue sky turned dark,

The boy looked on and the boat kept sinking,

Suddenly, he stood and ran, I was distracted,

The darkness swallowed him and I wore the garland in my neck,

But the last wish knocked at the door,

I hesitatingly decided not to move,

But the voice as peaceful as a blue sky and red rose,

Flowed through the key hole and soothed my ears,

It was the Child,

He again called –Uncle,

This time louder, his voice

Entered my whole body, shaking every part of it,

I wanted to ignore, but as always I failed again,

The objective got lost hearing different voices

Some positive, some negative,

I opened the door, to scold the peace


As I did, the bright light entered, my eyes closed

With astonishment, I tried to open it again,

It was last rays of hope, the sun is still shining,

Wanting someone to travel the unknown path,

Cold tears rolled and fell on the dusty floor, cleaning it,

I embraced the boy,

The white paper in his hand looked sturdy,

He looked into my dead eyes with curiosity,


He wanted a new boat

He was never a fearful child, he wanted

To struggle again with destination unsure,

He still wanted to reach the destination alone and confident,

The paper was strong, I somehow felt, the boat would never sink,

I focused hard and made the boat, perfectly indeed,

The boy took the strong paper boat and put the same into water,

With his eyes sparkling to see the destination under the last dark orangish light,

He was smiling, I stood at the opened door,

To also see the destination,

The last rays of run went further dark,

The boat travelled, the boy cherished and it reached the Tree –

The destination,

The boy jumped and ran to me, held my hand and yelled


The words thrilled my bones, dead blood started to roll,

The rope and the old English fan suddenly become weak now,

As I yelled with the boy



By Sonamanand  


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