The Whirl of Solitude

By Pratishtha Kumari

No one wished to embrace the abandoned one,

For who would hold close what the world had left behind?

Midway upon the road, he stood bewildered,

As though a whirlpool had swallowed his path.

His state was such—he could neither step within,

Nor find the courage to step without.

And where could one go,

Whom the world had forsaken?

Yet, within this very despair lay his strength.

At times, frailty itself transforms into power,

And lends a man his freedom.

He stood apart from the illusions of this world—

With no one ahead, and no one behind.

The right to choose was his alone,

And so was the joy of being free.

Abandoned he was, yes—

But master of his own world too.

One who could now carve his own path,

And walk only where his heart decreed.

By Pratishtha Kumari