Iman Roy Poet Rhyme

Leaving

The stairs have stopped tiring me.
I look down from the top to see,
The years that I have climbed,
Scratching scum and often blind,
Groping in the dark for a hand 
Reaching out for a ground to land 
Snatching vines, I ripped some more
Through the fractious, evil lore
I bore my footsteps on the stairs
The Mother of Vines smirks and snares...
'You think you have untangled enough?
You think these vines have lost their gruff?
Naive Child, do you have a clue?
Where the stairs head into the blue?'
I turn away from my triumphant stay
Prepare to leave and valiantly foray
Into the unknown blue of the night
I care not if I had died
Along with the vines I ruthlessly chopped
My soul too had galloped,
Down the stairs to reach the bay
Where the past and future play
The games of fortune and the games of life
I never knew I had to arrive
Soilless, soul-less this sojourn
I do not have time to mourn
About lost loves and careless kisses
Suddenly the Mother of Vine hisses 
'Stop dreaming and climb the stairs
Only then Life would be fair!'.

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