Glass-ceiling

It's shivering on the edge
Of a razor, or on the verge
Of a sky-kissing cliff,
Hanging to fall inevitably...
And the glass-ceiling overhead
May break anytime;
We live thus with all
The urges of flesh and blood.
An invisible thread between
Life and death is only a link
To allow us to survive;
A controlling power
Drives us to dance,
With the rhythm of Time.
The flickering lights of the
Burning hopes let us live;
Under the glass-ceiling
A complete, fragile negation-
Still a firm belief works
To fight a mock fight to
Win the dilemma of life,
To make us live vibrantly!
With the glass-ceiling
Overhead...

poem by Nilakshi Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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