Being part of the Irony

Part of the mockery I became,
Inevitable Guilt, difficult to tame,
Though working under the blazing flame,
Yet couldn’t even walk the road of my aim,
Time bended everything so mockingly,
Even divided my road for the aim so sarcastically,
Power to choose seemed like a satire,
Inside I felt like burning in fire.
Prophecy of my proficiency was coded,
My energy to catch against it faded,
Path reaching out to the peak suddenly changed,
The moment I slipped into the crack of the mountain,
But who cares about the reason for the fall?
Am I on my destination? That matters all.
Sometimes, it’s the nature of the game,
That lets you decide the rule for the game,
In the end, trapped with its own canon,
Ironically you get defeated in your own so called game.
The search for the irony ended,
When part of the irony I became.

copyright aditi kochhar