Hope

Who knows what's the story

Behind his loss of glory

Why is he alone along the roadside?

Why nobody is his bedside?

In a busy road of passing vehicles

His soul is hoping for some miracles

The eyes are continuously on a wait

For someone's hold, someone's support

Alone he is; among the crowd

With silent voice and tears aloud

In the advanced city, he's an ancient prisoner

Had lost his standard and became a sufferer

But enjoys this daily timetable

On which he can only reliable

As time is giving the required company

Accomplish him and his symphony

He cheers these passing days

Whether it's working or holidays

For him, it is the work, it is the fun

Nobody is needed for dusk and dawn