it may be attention,
or tired gesture,
to swim in swamped tragedies,
rather an unfaith,
or divided mindful,
ravel in stubbornness,
even in understanding,
troubled from inner,
but the mountains of,
success are never under feet,
The tolerance is last to suffer,
eyes wait for changes,
from dark to dawn,
and hopes,
are harvested fates.
that breaths in heavens.
Rafique Farooqi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hopeful-12/
