Would mine too be, a splendid one
A fearless fall, to the heaven’s zeniths
So be it my fate, than a faith, undone
Sacrifices are saintly, they can’t be myths!
My faith, baits me, to give it all away
A mind, heart, soul, to a raw passion
That peace, those prayers, are things passé
Jihads are just bred, on blood-ration!
But if faith’s not beyond, this holy melee
And wholesale slaughters, baptized, ‘sublime sins’!
How I reconcile my heart, soul, and mind, astray
Is faith, all about blood, and seventy two virgins!
Thousand years of rot, or manmade evolution
How believers became, fear’s fanatic farmers
Shall I blow myself, for a vain revolution?
To be one of those, Vainglorious Martyrs!
© 2017 Vikas Chandra