If sentence be a life, so what!
And captive we, to its willfulness
Time measures us, our tales uncut
With the empty moments, we possess!
Where means and ends, seem, all but, blurred
And lavishing time, any easy detour
To that pursuit, now, ever more absurd
In lieu of dreams, a phantasm obscure!
At crossroads, gazing junctures change
We would rather, be the bystanders
Why we love to disdain, and estrange
Our lives from pains, which passion stirs!
If moments, scatter life away, to never meld
And it’s all affair, of spent resolve, unspent malaise
We hold on to lies, till truths dispelled
Art of compromise! How We End Our Days!
© 2017 Vikas Chandra