There comes a time in your life

When you find

That all that you stood for

Must be left behind.

It is then that you must decide

If you want to chase an Illusion

Or move on..

For it is to the Bold and the Lonely

That the Truth Belongs.

 

 

Not to the Loud, Not to the Flashy

But to the Bold

Does the Glory come, they say..

But what you must Learn

On your own, on your way

Is for every bit of Glory

There is a Price to Pay

And the Price of the Bold

Is a Long Lonely way.

 

 

It is the Blows that break the dream

Of this illusory world

With its Insufficiencies

Its Chicaneries, its Lies

And its Shopkeeping sanctified.

To be weak here is to be immoral

Reflections of the same

For only the Bold does care

For Truths beyond weak minds dare.

 

For its only the Bold who sees

Dreams unseen F

or its only the Bold who goes

Where noone has been

For its only the Bold who will not

Shun ideals for comforts

And for this the Bold must Accept

Loneliness and Hurts

As the only constant Friends..

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