[Poetry] Idiosyncrasy of a defeated soul

On some nights,

the northern star seem to,

shine a little dimmer;

pretending to fade away.

Goals, aims, aspirations grow feeble;

Hope seem to faint within this cacophony;

feel defeated, dejected.


This spark that demotivates,

This spark of distractions,

left ignored, may burn down

your house of ambitions.

This agitation of the mind,

fuel it with a revolution of zeal,

undying motivation.


To seek comfort,

and settle for the minimal,

is the idiosyncrasy of a defeated soul.

The victor- the one immortal,

conquers  the inertia of failures.

Vanquish the pride of fulfillment,

build a ceaseless appetite for triumphs.


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