Was it etched on his heart, or destiny?
To be born a man, creedless to be!
Wasn’t he baptized or circumcised, on His holy lap?
Wasn’t he marked, Adam, Ali! So why did he snap?

The yarn that ties his mind, his heart, his soul to God
Why infidel, he chose to be, did he find the decree flawed?
That dictates a man’s being, from womb to grave
Why, he chose to be unshackled, to not be a, lifelong slave?

Atheist, agnostic, apostate, scorned by, many more names
How cultures chasten heretics! Consign their folly, to shames?
In awe, that disbeliever, gleans, the relics, of his belief
“Robbed myself, off gotten faith, my conviction, ain’t anyone’s thief”

Anguished! Is he? Yes! Yet, cradles that solace, in soul
“Must I be a sinner? So be it! May I not earn, His parole!
Still, dwells within this cynic, a child, who hums, that blissful rhyme
Which bathes my soul, in shades sublime! Is heresy, a noble crime?”

Banished from, chapels, mosques, temples and synagogues
A misfit, who long-disposed of, those devout dialogues
Which teach, a man to queue up, and chase, an ordained line
A man of free will, bewildered, by this comedy divine

This God-less, creedless man now, lured, by holy tout
“To save the wrath of heavens, avert your moral rout
Why don’t you be amongst us, to reap, faith’s worthy yield?
Then, heaven will be yours too, may your soul be healed!”

“Let me be, the evil outcast, spare me your doctrines
Life ain’t just religion, but conviction, beyond confines
Neither seduced by heaven, nor distressed, by a futile end
The one of love and mercy, only wealth, I earn and spend”

He braves the believers, to save that, profound thought
For which, he, a heretic, shoves, a life of slur, throughout
“Would destiny be better, had it been, in a holy cage!?
Each inch a milestone, for me, each moment a pilgrimage!”

© 2015 Vikas Chandra