These phantoms, ain’t my cherished friends
Though foes, they are, of sublime kind
Behold sun, how its angst descends
In shades of fear, and faith entwined!
What’s new about, this worn-out view?
Or that aging man, who ever-lusts for life
When a million specters, bid adieu
Our hopes chase dreams, thru despairs rife!
How wonder we, their mystic signs
Dark silhouettes, of vanquished souls
How shady truths, thru spearing lines
Bare lies of life, our heart extols!
Staggering along, growing long
To die out, in the birth of night
Though this ain’t their, last swan song
The Towering Shadows of Twilight!
© 2017 Vikas Chandra