The Race

 

Yes, why deny the race, it is on

No one can stall it; if stalled 

Only those aiming a win would get hurt,

The rest will wait for yet another day to dawn;

The winners will count the moments of their glory,

The losers their tears,

The triers do not lose hope they will try again,

They will continue to try.

 

The darvesh whirl to reach ecstasy,

They do not seek wealth;

The planets and the stars whirl to stay relevant,

They are the wealth,

But do not hold the place they roam;

They need no place to hold on,

They do not dress,

They are the true mendicants in the race. 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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