To wait for you, till the clocks melt down
Staring paved in blood, those lingering lanes
Which put to rest, as your promises drown
My hopes that ooze, off my broken veins
To wait for you, ain’t the only sin
But the call of heart, a pain treasured
Your angst may, but, scrape off my skin
To molt me in, to a man measured
To wait for you, is the lasting rite
Of a love cradled, in a forlorn heart
Unsuckled waif, wails out its plight
Poesy! Elegy! Can you tell apart?
To wait for you, is to recount time
Like rosary beads, of my last adieu
What you made of me, a relic sublime!
On borrowed time, who waits for you!
© 2016 Vikas Chandra
This poem is really for me. I’ve been waiting all my life, and I will never get tired of waiting.
Good Bro!. There is a strange pleasure in waiting…
Reblogged this on vikas chandra.