Every time when the world wrote you off,
circumvent you on a deserted trough,
And the moments when they wrestled you down,
and thought you dissolved to a point of no return.

You resurrected,
And proved them wrong,
Like a wounded tigress,
You came back more strong.

Not any different from the moon,
which slowly but surely bounces back,
from each and every lunar eclipse,
which tries, but fails to engulfs its face.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah