There I lay, a drying yellow leaf,
What happened, crushed my belief,
The tree had given me birth,
And shook in the festive mirth,
It had created me, nourished me,
It had nurtured me, flourished me,
And my siblings accompanied me,
And always I felt they need me,
But my provider had betrayed me,
After just half a days life, it slayed me,
While I lay cursing my patriarch,
My mind went through a spiritual march,
Isn't this the cycle of nature,
You have an arrival, you have a departure,
And does it matter how long one lives?
Or what one does, what one gives?
It matters not the span in which you are alive,
But what you have done while you thrive,
By my aroma, nature is appreciated by a blind,
And my beauty had comforted the troubled mind,
I gave hope to wight's depress,
I ornament nature's dress,
I supplement hungry birds and beast,
My siblings form delicious feast,
I made the air convenient for breath,
I form the forest, I form the heath,
So, I had accomplished my purpose,
And I take back all the curse,
I don't curse my originator's knife,
For now I know the meaning of life.

Thousands of lives have treaded the earth,
Thousand others have yet not had birth,
Yet the same destination is followed by each one,
While some leave footprints, others leave none.
There are choices each one has to make,
And decide which path to partake,
And among the path’s dwindling way,
To leave one’s presence for there to stay.

Most leave none and are a mere burden,
For they give none for all they had taken,
Challenges they faced but surrendered,
Left no memories to be remembered.
They could have made their life’s worth,
Contributing to humanity’s growth,
But instead they came and they left,
Of all worth they were bereft.

To other’s life was a walk on the sea shore,
Left a mark when they could’ve done more,
A life worthy of someone’s loss,
But to most others it was no morose.
In limited capacity they had acted,
In limited capacity they impacted,
A few days after their bodies lay,
Their footprints have already been washed away.

To some striding on mud gives pleasures,
They face difficulties of great measures,
They change the world and leave a mark,
Life’s each problem is another lark,
They change courses of humanity,
They explore into new possibilities,
Their footprints are left on muddy lands,
Some day even it will be covered with sands.

Finally a few take joy in marching on cements,
Unable to solve a hitch and one laments.
They shape the human’s course for eternity,
Remembered by all of humanity,
With each idea that they nurture,
They alter the pasts, mould the future,
Their footprint you will forever find,
Until it is paved by another of the same kind.

For a walk, one night,
Into the park I embark,
Amongst the forest I see a shine,
Surrounded by the dark.

For long had I cursed myself,
For doing such a blunder,
Walking on a moonless night,
Into the forest’s darkness I plunger,
Alas! The flickering lamp,
Showed me a glimmer of hope,
Fighting the eternal dark,
Even with its limited scope.

As a traveller in the night,
My heart was filled with gratitude,
For the illuminating rays escaping
A lamp that stood in solitude.

Then I heard a sound, a buzz,
Towards the lamp, a bug approaches,
It merrily dances around the cage,
Then onto the light it encroaches.

I shared the bug’s mirth,
Onto its goal, the bug neared,
The light is within bug’s reach,
A touch, a flick, it disappeared!

To kill oneself for a moments joy,
An act I could not fathom,
Singing, dancing till the last,
That fool, that idiot, that simpleton.

To me the light was
A good tiding’s epitome,
What was a radiant joy to others,
Was the gloomy death for some.

Then I heard a familiar sound,
Another bug was coming by,
And like the fallen one,
Straight into the light it flies.

I could not be a mere spectator this time,
Knowing the end that was to come,
I started waving frantically,
Far from gratitude, it threw a tantrum.

It buzzed madly escaping my clutches,
Dodging my hands and fingers,
Until the heat became unbearable,
Now close to the lamp it lingers.
 
Then as if to ridicule me,
It encircled the torch,
Then it entered it, all contempt,
To die, to burn, to scorch.

So the light feasted another prey,
Now the flames dance and flicker,
The innocent glow of confidence,
Now belonged to a slayer.

Was life too meaningless to kill itself?
Or in search of truth to the fire it went?
Can someone be so steadfast in its pursuit?
It simply must’ve been that arrogant.

For a goal am I ever so zealous,
Not bothered with dying in its course,
To achieve it with all I have,
Or to lose my life with no remorse.

And so I prepared myself,
To save the next one from it wrath,
Determined to prevent it from its goal,
To dissuade it from its chosen path.

And the next bug did arrive,
As full of life as the other ones,
A moribund joy resonated in the buzz,
And the lamp devilishly burns.

For a while it challenged
My hand’s dexterity,
But now within my clutched,
It withered frantically.

It wriggles, it tickles,
My palm as it scrapes,
Finally a bite paved for it,
An opportunity to escape.

The moment it was free,
It resumed its destined flight,
It soared with more enthusiasm,
Into the wicked light.

I gazed as the buzzing bug,
Was silenced of its joyous hum,
It knew its destination was its end,
Respect grew for its martyrdom.