Where had you been, my silhouette?
That game of shadows, unfinished yet!
Won’t you hold me against, my sinful will?
Till you are spent, on my heart you till
Needless to say, how needless you are
A glaring phantom, in my busy bazaar
Your whispers ain’t, discernible though
Your gestures are, for mystics to know
Ensnared you are, or me in you
Entangled both, in the devil’s brew
It’s not love-hate bond, but a liaison of sin
For a soul to lose, and a heart to win
In this lingering chase, from virtue to vice
It’s the soul that basks, in a fool’s paradise
For I am the price, of my worldly toll
And the one left out, in the summary of my soul
© 2016 Vikas Chandra