Of this road that the meaning
Of life is in protest against
Ill and evil deeds yet
I have been doing since
My childhood but in those
Nothing I have got in my life
Yet I rise as I did not mind
But this time poverty comes
In the way of my love
Though I remain indomitable
But often comes the fling
Of doubt when I am alone
Or at rest, have I lost
The meaning of life
Without my love and against
Whom or what this time
Should I protest?

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