A name I chased, till the end of my way
Weighed down my soul, for the devil to pay
His fear I reared, like the carcass of my child
Only birth, an age, lived a man exiled

How well it fitted, like the skin on my soul
Wretched man I became, for that name to extol
Looked classy on me, a chosen deceit
I, one amongst many, made my both ends meet

A yearning mystique, or a handy white lie
My faith made me, a blighted bonsai
Who stares the sun, for the boon-to grow
Knows not but it, its fate as though

Yet I gage my age, on His gage of diktat
Does He promise any heaven, or plays tit for tat?
That chase didn’t die, since the day I was hurled
A man hunting God, in a Godless world

© 2016 Vikas Chandra