Since
You can’t have the aspirations,
You can’t own the aspirations.
.
Oh poor
It’s your fate,
To cull the hopes up,
Tossed by unknown.
.
Oh poor
It’s your fate,
To purchase even the faith,
After your freedom sold,
Nothing remains for you.
.
Oh poor
Your feet need trajectory,
Though there is no truce-no conflict,
Between feet and psyche.
.
Oh poor
There is a dubious path,
Amidst truth and lie,
Lingers your conscience,
To and fro on the path.
.
Oh poor
You are seen on,
Both verges of the path