In les misérables’ realm, nor I’ll be the one
To not bear the truth, behind the lies
Is life just a longing, or a lasting liaison?
With quietus, in renaissance’s disguise!
Life’s chalice, spills, no more, that bliss
Which dared the, the laws of existence
Now it seems to be, a doomed abyss
And me, paltry pilgrim, of senescence!
Could sublime, be more, than a sweet demise
In eternity’s lap, life-and-death’s love play
Where ends, the quest of, ‘whens’ & ‘whys’
Could less be Godly, than a man of clay!
Sans end’s fear, and soul’s rebirth’s lust
I kiss my chalice, cheerio, like a stoic-libertine
And bite with nirvana, fate’s final dust
A masterpiece, cut fine, May That Death Be Mine!
© 2017 Vikas Chandra