Hope & House

      Clogged by hassles, the life,
At times seems rhetorically insane.
Deep in the oceanic thoughts,
Nobody seems sane.
Every step, in the crossing,
Has something to disdain.
Like, absence of sunshine,
Trickling in despondent rain.
Far off the blisters,
Milestone is somewhere—
In the middle of nowhere,
Ordeal of rituals housing everywhere.
Every step, in the crossing, now,
Makes me curse my fear—
Of losing when nothing is dear.
But, hey, I’m the follower of Hope,
Having picked the road,
Where I shall travel forever, in 

      whatever means it is aching in air, till
The destiny is mine, and
I’m blessed, longer and lengthier…