Time is clay, in the hands, of man
And man, a captive, in time’s throes
What maketh he, and leaves for his clan
Are those recalls, his legacy sows!
This millstone, of philosophy, ain’t for me!
Who spent his labors, on his love
And mends, his broken rhapsody
With sin’s silhouettes, in velvet glove!
From where you left, your yarn began
I weaved it up, with Maker’s care
From the nooks of heart, to the cosmic span
I invented,our soul’s affair!
They call it a myth, what they didn’t see
But a mad man lost to a heart impassioned
I see you beyond, you see me
I Still Remember, What Never Happened!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra