The odds

To survive

And live another day

A proverbial chant echoing everyday

To reconcile and live one’s fate

No fights, no trysts,

Handing over reins to destiny

Not so much as a gasp to be alive

Eking out existence,

Till the years roll by and the turn arrives.


Each second, Every day, Every breath.


Counting as the moments pass.

The static scenery constant

anhedonic and ritualistic.

But for a start,

Stares aren’t yet void,they see

The breaths are still not empty

Sand in the hourglass still lurks

And the blood,a gesture of dynamism

Surviving, Existing, Counting

Yet progressing.

Every breath​, Every beat,Every thought



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