First Menses Of The Spring


vikas chandra

Her heart throbbed, in that quiescent bud
Who paid price, of life’s renaissance
Now a joy bathes, in her womb’s warm blood
Dead is the reign, of that nonchalance!

Once more spill sin, yearning daffodils
Ablaze passion, in the throes of pain
The bloodshot pansies, blush to their fills
Behold her lifeblood’s, legerdemain!

It ain’t pure love, that doesn’t bleed
To farm a hope, oe’r myriad years
She sows, in the soul of life, death’s seed?
Oe’r misery’s tombs, strews joys’ souvenirs!

Lay bare mystiques, of a virgin’s heart
Ever-lusted who, for love’s sin-fling
Each grain dolled-up, down to a fine art
Baptized in bliss, First Menses Of The Spring!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra

View original post

Submit a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s