Bedizened, she stares, then smirks past me
Unlocks all dreams, under lock and key
Yet again rekindles, seductions galore
Mistress of Swindles, hope’s a whore!

Makes love, to half-spent men, on chase
And rapes, the fellas spent, in disgrace
Or kisses off, the gone ones, at death’s door
Keep of life-sick humans, hope’s a whore!

Her creed is the one, born to outlast time
For to hope and despair, lasting sin sublime
Of man, the child, of time’s metaphor
An inferno, astir, hope’s a whore!

Shall it end someday, her lingering cabaret?
And mankind decay, in this fate’s cruel play?
Shall this bitter sweet seed, on souls still soar?
Constant Gardener of a breed, hope’s a whore!

© 2016 Vikas Chandra