The path was thorny- the lights had dwindled...
He looked above at the heavens concealed...
Gloomy tar spattered the sky...
His limbs were gagged- he wailed in pain...
His agony scarred the treacherous night...
Bleeding feet he knocked the gate-
'Come my son,' the father said.
'You walked the distance, your demons made.
you fell from sky and got misled...
The soothing arms were always yours...
Come my son-I am always yours...'
Rashmi.
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