How estranged, is the springtime’s spree
To the seeds of ache, it sprouts in souls
Why creed of love, is a wild fury
That passion stokes, and pain consoles

How sublime, is that solitude
Which renders me, in shades of you
What worth is love, if not imbued
In endless wait, of our rendezvous

Hope’s chalice, brims with love’s despair
With you in me, when you’re not there
Why yearning is, a fear laid bare
And womanhood, a sin debonair

How lie becomes, a lasting truth
And longing, belonging, a work of art
Would a soul, still cherish the throb of ruth
Had it not been for, Your Love In My Heart

© 2017 Vikas Chandra