Wings On The Soles

Each one irrespective of their genre

Keep striving hard with valour

Tiptoeing at the catapults on their way

Gulping down the wave of hindrance sway;

Success does not wear the robe of rich

Rugged soles equally deserve their niche

Whether under streetlights or the melting flame

They strive the obstacles for their name.

They grill their soles in the furnace of the kiln

To sprout the flutter of wings to win

Or maybe the heat of system so ablaze

Grating them down to ashes by its rays.

But those ashes scattered

Bloomed a veil of hope that mattered

Standing up with twice the zest as before

As Heating the sword sharpens it more.

From being the dust on the floor

To Trekking up their dreams' folklore

Determined to be known by their own moles

Taking off the runway by wings on their soles.