My Strife

From the doldrums of life,

Through the corridor of gloom,

Was my journey like bitter strife, 

To make myself bloom.

Bruised by the sinful words, 

By those who prefer to flock in herds.

My lowered eyes and drooping shoulders,

Making desolate chords with my woeful tears.

But I stood up armoured with hope

And slowly onward did I lope.

Out from the dungeons of my past,

That shackled me and made me aghast.

My life now charging at full gallop,

The lessons learnt from my past shall not go in vain,

For they were taught by the stern pain.

Sanctified by the divine flames,

And resurrected from the holy ashes,

I broke into my new phase,

With all my weaknesses sink without a trace.