How dare I pen, and then, not fear
Aftermaths of, a naïve blasphemy
How could a faith, be prone to smear?
Ain’t it the immortal, Lord’s decree!
Don’t think, don’t write, don’t blog, don’t speak!
How frail are the minds, which fail to stand
A wayward view, or a sound critique
How could a belief, be built on sand!
Is God, a manmade frailty
For them, who safekeep Him, with dread
With kid gloves, and bigotry
And adulate, hate and fear, instead!
Don’t faiths evolve, like cultures do?
How could a timepiece, dwell in past
For the fear of, future, and its due!
What doesn’t grow, that doesn’t last!
How does it feel, when your broods martyr
Themselves, for the blood of kafirs, unawares
Could more be the timbre, of a faith, starker?
Than the deafening blares – “Islam Scares…”!
© 2017 Vikas Chandra