Oh, how marvellously we slither on

Through, on and on the many, many,

Devastatingly attainable beauty, that is

Only and always us.

Scaling ladders beyond reach, but

Cherishing the ultimatum on the top,

Through the very course of the entire,

Entire journey.

But lo and behold those very paths,

Paths where flowers rise in all of them

Glory, where darkness comes creeping in too.

These paths which hold the very steps

Of the journey you have taken.

Tis’ the most sacred of all, for the

Print of yours has faded

Away, changeling as the one before.

But we still gather all our might,

And thrust, deeper and deeper into, that

Solitary path, which illuminates,

Some, more than others.

Alas, but it brands some too,

Unknown misery creeping in through

Their blood and veins, scarring

Their very soul for aeons.

Along the way though, the prints,

Brought into prominence by the shadows,

Tells us a tale of a different era,

When trust was nectar and truth divine.

These prints tell us of those, those who had

Gone up and above, lived to tell the

Solitary yet woeful tale of their tiniest

Of steps, which now are the most,

Wonderful of all.

Yet, walking that path was never, never

Really the utopian journey.

Tis’ always those footsteps of ours,

Always to be imprinted on that bare, rueful path.

In all walks of life, the beauty,

The joy of the walk, the misery and hurt,

Always surpasses the path.

Oh, now lo and behold these wonderous

Foot prints of those ruefully transient feet,

Destined to always walk the path,

The steps of theirs engraved on that,

Bare path for the rest of eternity,

The steps echoing off for aeons to come.

About The Poet

Nandita Arun,  is a  very passionate and sentimental young poetess. Being an extrovert, this pandemic has brought forth many changes in her  mainly altering many of the emotional traits. And writing, along with reading has truly helped her to  cope with all of these changes.  Her hobbies are cooking  and whisking up something or the other  with  guitar and piano.