Reigniting to fire…

Although I do not think that my presence might have been much noticed, but then with sparks going up around I couldn’t resist contributing my part. I know we have been very somnolent since a long time now….I guess we hit an iceberg. None the less we are up and around again I guess and acting like a flag-bearer here I present to you a song( a poem actually!) commemorating our revival…..its sort of a classic but I hope you will like it.

Kindly accept my apologies for the laziness…..

 

Damp and cold the torch there lay,

Ignored by the hands in which it sway,

Devoid of its life, the sulphur and lime;

Its head had ashes of a forgotten time.

 

That which once was a fire to behold,

Acclaimed by all as costlier than gold,

That which once led the armies to war,

Was waiting today for it’s bearer’s call.

 

The men of old did touch it not,

The men in power were busy in their plots,

The light in their hearts had already gone,

Vanquished with it the torch too morn.

 

A street boy passing, begging on his way,

Picked up this torch and began to sway,

The hunger in his mind forgotten in the haste

Of playing with his toy, covered in the black paste.

 

Days rolled in and days rolled out,

The street boy grew and finally made out,

The stick that he used to bang the gates,

Was once the moulder of all their fates.

 

Everyday in his dream the boy lit the torch,

His grieves all in its he scorch,

Till one day he couldn’t resist the call,

And the torch came out from its lifeless pall.

 

With a new vigour and intensity unmatched,

The flames from its cold tip hatched,

In its light the souls of millions burn,

The winds of change began to churn.

 

Travelers from afar came to seek in its light,

The answers to make their futures bright,

Their eyes that, with time, had long run dry,

Welled with tears and began to cry.

 

The torch became a symbol of change,

A symbol of war, a symbol of rage,

Its voice enthused life in all the dead,

That walked the earth with a bowed down head.

 

Damp and cold the torch there lay,

The light outside had its utility slay

Ignored by the hands in which it sway,

Devoid of its life, the sulphur and lime;

And yet its fire was shaping the time,

Guiding the past, the present and the future all in a line. 

 

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