A Little Thing Called ‘purpose’

A Little Thing Called purpose long poem

Photo by Wicker Paradise

Sometimes souls are inspired
Sometimes souls are broken
Sometimes souls have goals
Sometimes souls be laissez-faire

Is there really a purpose for the existence of a soul?
My soul contemplated.

First there was nothing when the soul was personified in the form of a baby
No aim, no goal
Then the baby grew and there was a big thing called ‘Ambition’
A very big, clear cut ambition, beautifully envisioned

And lo, the thing called ‘Ambition’ was envisioned
by a mere baby that has just begun to sprout
Then there was something called ‘Life’
That showcased to the soul
A few things called ‘Experiences’

But the soul thought that it was the end
And finally understood that
‘Ambition’ means nothing in ‘Life’
And finally discovered that
That there is nothing called ‘Happiness’

Then the soul let things take their own course
The person who had that soul,
The person who was one seen as an inspiration for many
Now became dormant
After the person’s soul’s discovery of the fact that:
There is nothing called ‘Ambition’ or ‘Happiness’

Then Time flew
The soul saw the rise of many of it’s peers
It reminded the soul of the story of the hare and the tortoise
With the soul itself in the place of the hare
The soul felt a few things called ‘Pain’ and ‘Sadness’

The soul contemplated and contemplated and contemplated

And it finally said to itself softly:
My dear soul
You were given this body of a human being
For a little thing called ‘Purpose’
‘Ambitions’ do fail
‘Happiness’ might get shattered
And few things might go out of hand
Or even everything

But everything that happens has a little thing called ‘Purpose’
And the only wise thing that can be done is
To strive till our last breath
To spread ‘Happiness’
To take both ‘Victory’ and ‘Defeat’ in the light of ‘Wisdom’, not ‘Emotion’
To not let ‘Victory’ reach the ‘Brain’
To not let ‘Defeat’ reach the ‘Heart’
To strive till our last breath
For a little thing called ‘Purpose’

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