Pilgrimage of the atheist

vikas chandra

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…

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