—– Dojum Ngomdir
VSSUT Burla, Odisha

A humble lad,
Physique as bag of bones,
Painted with innocence,
Sculpted with clay of care and affection,
Soothed was life,
With colors of warmth and purity,

Oh lord, Thank thee, prayed the lad.
Happy as clam, was he.
Little did he knew,
Cruelty of reality,

Drunken with the illusion of love,
Tried to spin gold out of rust,
Endless was the path that he chose,
Tangled up in lies and insecurity,

His dreams,
Far cry from reality,
Presuming sandcastles for castles,
In a wink came the waves of sorrow,
Dissolved in hatred and scorn,
Wrecked sandcastle of dreams,
Off one’s rocker, became he.

But the mistake,
That was his,
Mistook deception for truth.
Kept owns at bay,
Shut the kith and kin,
Broken, the lad,
Cursed the actuality of life.

The last straw, genesis,
Made him believe,
True love brings salvation,
Illusion brings damnation.

Crushed the virtual dreamland,
George reborn.
Hope became remedy,
Every tear bought redemption,
He’ll heal,
He’ll start again…