Wasn’t faith of spring, your splendid smile!
And the sin of bliss, your last recall
It spilled your grace, with cupid’s guile
Until I saw you, in the mirror, of fall!
Time dolled you up, to mar one day!
Cost of each smile, with a scar to pay
I count my years, in the fissures, of your face
Ever since, I lost you, to your vanity case!
With the yarns, that grow, on your façade
I knit, an ode, to senescence
“Who believe in, fleshly escapade
Don’t know, love’s soul, beyond pretense”!
Dole out, your last few, grandeur’s years
To those, who love, your ‘graffiti’!
But with aging’s tears, you farmed, those fears
Do Spare Your Wrinkles, Just For Me!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra