Pursuit
Raise an anthem to them
Who shouts Mumbai Mumbai
Those in the first flush of life
Mother Indian's pride,
With all of its ache and gain;
Of its viles and sublimes.
Bombay Bombay
Every young Indian, of you bethink,
To take the pains of height attained,
By many a man gone back a time
Tis the young Indian's dream,
The very gleams
As to reach the height of fate
Indian's call to fame, Lovers flight to flame
Beauty seen in every late night show
From the cradling arms
Of a mother's love,
The eyes though dim
Are set afoot to fly.
Against the high and stormy gale,
The young Indian set his course t'assail
Always standing tall, with every fall so low
I'm not a young Indian
But I have heard of tales,
Of so great a people,
Full of strength and avarice
To take their fate in hands;
Bite off more that they can chew;
Yet for life and Mumbai,
They'd gladly never take a bow
~ Pursuit
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
