This poem is about, despite being content with their state; how people have different anathemas at different stages of their lives, starting from the unborn stage to the stage when they are counting their last breaths. And most interestingly, none of these anathemas are real. In the next stage or in the coming stages, people overcome them.
Say for example, when we were a fetus, and we were enjoying the warmth of the mother’s womb; the only anathema was the light and sound of the world. In the next stage (as a child), the person, rather starts enjoying the spectrum of light. What attracts a child the most, is nothing but the bright colors.
Just Be Daring..