Life, O!,what are you? Could anyone say?
No, not a single person has told it well.
Sometimes it is smooth and soft
As a lovely river, running slowly.
But sometimes! It is merely a roar
Pearcing harshly the ear of listener.
For someone life is calm and cool
And for some others for work, a tool.
Some enjoy it as a soothing breeze,
For some a lightning burning things on the way.
And for some it is a summer shower
Blooming the flora in colourful attire.
On some days it is a flood of tears
And some days it is fun and laughter.
Some find it as a dungeon with chains
And some use it as wings to fly freely.
Some feel it as a path to walk for bread
And for some a treasure for pleasure.
Some people make it a shelter to rest
And some take it as a work spot so vast.
Some build it as a mansion of love,
Some create in it a hell of hatred.
Some turn it as a road tarred to travel
And for some a cocoon for penance.
Some cook it as a dish delicious for eating,
For some it as a chance apt for cheating.
Some change it, for success, into a venture
And some turn it into a matter of adventure.
Some mould it into a ware designed skillfully,
Some destroy it as a glass, into broken pieces.
For some people it is a reason for depression
And for some medium of self –expression.
Sometimes it is a mountain to be conquered,
And sometimes a valley to be occupied.
But life is nothing other than all these
And it keeps on, as a wheel, rolling and rolling.
Always out of it, let your ‘self’ make the best,
And allow never to be covered with rust.
Adopt steps that will lead you to be bold,
Reap you can then cent percent gold.