Tyranny Of Times

Flung into the chasm of cure less confusion

Lie in deep slumber the aspirations of many an erudition,

The moon and the sun, every cloud and eclipse will stain

With a final warranty – there will come gentle rain!

On a tempestuous sea tosses a wavering vessel

In quest for a captain to deliver from this wrestle.

Agonizing reflection in each eye that meets yours,

With waning hope awaiting countless cures.

At a snail-slow pace does the brutal Time amble –

A mockery to all efforts and our achievements up for a gamble.

Eyeing for greener pastures to turn over a new leaf,

A reckoning for the superlative and miles away from this hideous grief.

Dulcet are the memories but earnest is this thought,

To vanquish all tremors and accomplish what is sought.