Those labors, and the soul they bore
To be intrigued, by existence
Past a life of, empty rites galore
Be led by time, thru senescence!

Obliged to be, a man, that boy
How measures up, to meet that day
When nothing’s left of, that broken toy
Time stands tall, o’er man’s decay!

Thru the, dark alleys, of destiny
Where wars are waged, for a soul to lose
How a man is all, but a chase, we see
Spent every day, in endless queues!

Once suckled, by the bliss of genesis
Now drunk, with a sin, Machiavellian
How ugly, is this toy of malice
Beyond recall, How Time Warps Man!

© 2017 Vikas Chandra