Ode To A Dying Man


I daresay, “Your another day”
When you linger past, the same sweet deceit
I reckon the string, of your kite astray
Fading out to, Redemption Street!

So strewn I see, your yearning breaths
Like beads, of a broken rosary
Beyond life, and death’s shibboleths
You are just a pilgrim, endlessly!

The clay which made you, what you are
And bonds you made, to last till time
Which one, is your truest avatar
Your birth itself, is a sin sublime!

How bare you lay, in the garb of death
With a lust to be, your Maker’s creed
What life taketh, her end giveth
In the soul of rot, eternity’s seed!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra

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