Would you call them still, if they do not come?
Those years of yearning, those days of despair
What’s there to forsake, what’s left to succumb
Than a life misspent, making castles in dead air
My fancies bred that blue-eyed boy, to this cynical man in me
What used to be a fable, is a lie indeed, I see
To live, would be so different, had I known that very time
Would not have traded heart’s blood, for that every worn-out dime
Why feel sold-out, to a chimera, wasn’t that the idea?
Life’s never meant to be always, a rendition of dreams
Albeit, you stow your heart, with, tons of chutzpah
Lie turns out to be, the lone truth, truth, never what it seems
Was cherry-picked I, for the world, by a sheer quirk of fate!
To chase phony fairytales, then million shades of dark
Ever-long to be that “someone”, a wary heart could relate
And call ennui a “life”, could death be more so stark!
© 2016 Vikas Chandra
Reblogged this on vikas chandra.