Akhand Singh

Once in a while you strip it out

The shame and the regret

Walking alone you think of them

Of the people you’ve met

Judgmental and condescending

Figures of clay, greedy of ascending

Concerned of the torn shoes, you walk slowly

Bearing the bruises and scars of being lonely

Running around the world, scared of night

At a point you realize, there is an endless light inside

You walk straight and you walk with pride