A Convert’s Creed


Still blurred appear, both faiths to me
Waning mystiques, of a, molted skin
Oh! Too tight’s the coat, of blasphemy
I breathe thru my soul, my newfound sin

Skull-capped, circumcised, baptized, ostracized
Why on earth, I became, “proselyte”, “neophyte”
Amidst mobs of bigots, lost, that passion, prized
What a myth is faith, in black and white!

When bygone is that mayhem, of pious souls
‘New’ dogmas, ‘old’ enough, dare I call my bluff!
Why I burn bare hands, raking over old coals?
“Hallelujah”, “Ya Allah”, screams my heart, in the rough!

Old Gods don’t care, new Gods don’t hear
They call me names, “infidel”, “impostor”
In farms of faith, sown seeds of fear
Why a soul should suffer, baptism of fire?

© 2016 Vikas Chandra

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