Karna's Cry

The child in a basket floating through the deluge,
Fighting through the cusp to find the refugee,
In mother destiny's lap,
Being the lucky one left in solitude to fight.

The dark destiny meandering on the top,
The vultures circling to feast the corpse,
The basket of life drifting into the oblivion,
Its my deed holding a life's yearn.

The weight of the chariot piercing my arm,
The arrows shredding my heart,
The revered one plotting my  harm,
And my own blood cheering my last breath.

A teacher's revered hand,
A brother's soothing shoulder,
A mother's warm lap,
Pass by my severed heart's grasp.

Feeling the ache to sing to the world,
Its not kindness but victory,
Its not loyality but the birth of right,
Its not righteousness but the perceived truth.

Now the final thread,
Holding me afloat on the chasm,
Is least required in my final abode,
I give it to you, oh the giver!!