A nine month journey about to end
Where will the destination be?
Is history going to reflect?
Here comes another victim of ancient mischief
How will his turn of story be?
As the contemporary warm hands of misfortune
Open widely to usher you from the womb.
You came wrapped in white
But arrived on a bed covered with coal and dust
How are you going to save the white?
Poverty is in labour again!!!
Which labour ward will she deliver?
Is it the hard luck ward again?
But this time the baby wears a golden crown
You are in a pit of slum
And wants to rule on a mountain of gem
How will you climb up this slippery pit
With a rock of failure tide around your waist
A green and soggy seed appears
Which part of the land will it fall?
Is channel going to be followed?
He entered neat only to meet a slob as his guru
How do he keep this appearance.
He fell on a desert
Though you are a fruitful seed
How do you survive and bear fruits?