I've question'd myself many times if soul
Is looking to me with any desire,
And tried to understand its veil'd hyperbole
Which stirs up me against my being off-flair.
It's so complaining of being sedentary
If to the nothingness of wilds withdrawn,
But rides composed so long as wings of glory
Are soaring high 'unpaused', 'untired', 'ungiven'.
Rapt if they all listen'd to the cry
The ambitious soul of theirs'd intensely make,
So voyaged victorious to limitless sky
Their passion-laden will would stars in rake...
The insurgent soul does fire instincts for fame;
A great soul always goes with great name.
-- N P Samal
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