Having gaged our years, in wrinkles of time
A child paid off dearly, a price sublime
For virility of man, a virtue’s outrage
Molted veils, unmolted souls, as we age ….

His childhood, a mother of placid cares
Baptized, in the shower of blissful tears
Every blink, in awe, of the worldly stage
Alas, he would grow and thaw, as we age ….

His name was youth, synonym of charm
Smelt of musk, lost, in a cherry farm
A heart’s something to lose, all the rage
Alas, becomes a bin of blues, as we age ….

A householder, who held the strings tied
Societal debts, familial oaths, both belied
Now, a spent-up man, in a gilded cage
Alas, moving mirror of a clan, as we age ….

Mid of the passage, a pilgrimage half-begun
The fight in man over, now, a pilgrim on the run
Smirks away bygone despairs, is he now a sage?
Alas, a broken man, beyond repairs, as we age ….

Who colored this grey, now a tomb of his own?
Baked by past, forlorn, to be shriveled alone
In chase of life, afar the end, to disengage
Alas, mystique of the deathly friend, as we age ….

© 2015 Vikas Chandra