The Fruit Of Altruism

My soul is alive, but i am dead!

Annihilated, destroyed, I'm wrecked like Titanic

Deposited like alluvium in some part of the world

The avalanche, my heart, and i'm a callous soul

A chandelier holding chaos and chagrin

I'm finished, i say; but deep inside

my conscience sings, a chronic chorus,

that i was never destined for this comeuppance!


We argue, i quote, it starts, and says

This is a chrysalis, you have to carve your way

for without any hope, will no butterfly emerge;

denude the debris, wash away the dismal.



I cry, of what, but ofcourse, no hope

It lingers, goes on, stands up, to me

drowned in doldrums and dispirited are you,

and you only, can revive yourself, but who?



I recite, the reassurance, given then, to me

by me; my saviour, I am, my self

I scream, and shout, and scatter away

my fears, my doubts, which sabotage my soul.



I vow, to shine, like a sapphire, some gem!

I promise, not to whine, but smile till the end.

The symphony of my life

like a violin i will play,

i would vouch,

vehement to my life i lay.



Strong, vigilant, vivacious, viable

I will stand vitreous to everything vicious

I will reproach the unimpeachable

make the unobstructive, more obvious

I will show the world now, the unprecedented truth,

will clarify what it was just going to lose!



And then, the tirade, it ends; my conscience

It wins, I win; together, we lose

Its traunt, I was, but now, no more

transcribed, in me, is but, tranquil

And then, like suddenly, I truly, realise

My soul is still alive, and I'm not dead!