Destiny’s jugglery: A poem 

The objective and end-result of selflessness’ honour 

by putting one’s own aspirations on the backburner 

is like the hen that sacrifices its lifetime’s eggs 

to feed others, remain hatch-less, and settle with the dregs 

The tastiest apple is not in stolen booty’s applecart 

The sacrifice for a future may seem like brittle shards 

But the jewel that lies in obscure unrecompensed art 

is most precious and unblemished by time’s ugly warts 

The noisome trumpets sounded all through history 

have the stench of a misconstrued, undeserved glory 

Though no gravestones or epitaphs mark the dead, 

a silent inspiring flower of an elegy in paradise is bred 

It’s time to dig up the forgotten diamonds from the dust 

To give back beauty to those victimised by others’ lust 

The palaces of men that were built by sheer thuggery 

have to be struck down by the circle of destiny’s jugglery