Kismet

Driven by the ardor
The feat touched the acme
Made slave to splendor
And mastered the élan
The feel of great and grandeur
Won the self but heart, disown.

Made kismet
Grossed the fame
Became triumphant at the end
But neither could be forlorn nor content!

Life is but a burning candle
It’s a flight from the cradle
To the alley of comatose state
Where no one wins, no one fails
But douse the fire, the cruel fate…