Since I ceased to believe, in that thing, called God
And that myth, my faith, my hopes, all flawed
My prayers, all pleas, to a heartless stone
Impotent seeds, in a wasteland, sown

No more is fear, of the unknown now
No more, grazes me, that holy cow
No more crucified, on the cross of Christ
Baptized now me, a blasphemous heist

I am that child, who forgot, to grow
In the cradle I rotted, bullied dwarf, as though
“He is your bread, His blood, your creed”
They dictated, bred on my soul, like weed

Still stands, in long shadow, of a pious past
But in heart, a ‘Free Man’, not that fanatic aghast
Who shredded, his soul, to interweave
A kindled man, who ceased to believe!

© 2016 Vikas Chandra