As smoke, dies down, o’er smoldering ashtray
And bacchus bleeds, thru my, bursting nerves
I begrudge, to my, soul’s melee
“If pain is, the only end, existence serves!”
I hold out my skull, like a, cynic mystic
And scrape on it, two worlds’ requiem
One I lost out to, that ruth’s relic
The other, lost me, to my, haunting dream!
Hide me somewhere, but where, you know?
When it’s all within, my cherished nemesis
I linger in, my shadows, as they grow
With a moribund heart, soul’s paralysis!
I see dawn bleed, sun’s virgin tears
In the realm of pain, rain of respite
A lost lullaby, amid loitering fears
Strewn sacraments, of A Restless Night!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra