#WritcoPoemPrompt8
Every soul that passes the gate,
Has passed a test of fate,
Trudging along on tired feet,
Almost there, refusing to defeat.

(but for a soul to come near the gate, the physical form has to do some hardwork)

Tired from mind, tired from brain,
But need to get through that feat,
A step ahead, saw something great,
Not budging to move or flee the threat.
Blinked, then lost the figure ahead.

Can't get through! blabbered alone,
The treasure of peace, the treasurer of fate,
The test was nothing just a dream of Chess,
If Victory was 'C' then Learning was 'F',
Didn't even know how to spell it as.

(C means Checkmate and F means Failure)

Iteration of fail and failed attempt,
Got 'C' after several thousands of 'F'.
Each fail was the gate to pass the test,
Finally, headed to the gate of rest.






© skp9