Sand in fist

Entailed now in summarizing the impeccable phase
Trying to recall the moments of triumph
When acquiring affluences was at my will
The going was good and every thing seem accessible
Those golden moments of my life, now impregnable
Never considered in my fanaticism to conquer
That it’s not me who is the front-runner
There is some thing like also called destiny
Which favors us to become triumphant
But never ever believed in fortune
Considered as the maker of my self world
How confined was my vision now I analyze
Facing the blatant reality of the world
Left alone to ponder no one to stand by me
Who in my moments of triumphs I never considered
A manifestation of self-complacency is painful now
Slowly being engulfed in the waves of providence
Now being tossed here and there in the midst
Trying hesitantly to reach the shore ineffectively
My world has tumbled toppling my self-made empire
Not allowing me even the least to acquire
Pulling my self above the tides of time
Only able to hold a hand full of sand
Which I watch desolately helplessly
Slipping out of my fist gradually.