Like a mongrel, across the empty streets
Lost kite, on the soul, of a cloudy sky
Till the threshold, of a heart depletes
Burns the patience, like a restless sigh
Banished always, on an endless chase
Mind strays, mind strays…

Those who find their solace, in the sanctum of storm
Are the ones who know, real creed of bliss
Not the ones who but, choose to conform
And sink in the swirl, of thoughts’ abyss
A sailless ship plays, in mayhems’ maze
Mind strays, mind strays…

Ain’t it sin to wander, and squander one’s soul!
Wasn’t man made to last, beyond his mind’s shortfall?
Neither sun, nor moon, peeks thru, his pious pigeonhole
Why he riotous then, reading, writings on the wall?
Past tombs of yesterdays, trampling souls of todays
Mind strays, mind strays…

© 2016 Vikas Chandra