I’m a man of my word
Beaten over the head
Stabbed with a sword
Knocked down,
Abandoned,
Vilified and torn
Into audible pieces
Trash and useless fabrics
And for many many years,
I stayed stagnant
Demoralised at a spot.
Life’s hard, became a fact
On this ground I lay
In creed, all the way
Knowing that one faithful day
My cold feet and lifeless nerves
With that very few water drops;
Sprung shall be of the rotten seeds…
Then from flowers to fruits,
I shall rise above their roofs
Till then; I am, the rotten seeds.
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