Since I molted out, of that, mundane man
I still remain, bare to, the bone
An outcast, from the, à la mode clan
I’m nothing, but my, stark tombstone!

A maverick, in a, dandy world
Who ain’t, beyond his, ‘wanton’ thought
Whilst a mind, gave in, a heart demurred –
“This world, ain’t worth, your soul’s sellout”!

Whose ‘snobbery’, is now, whose satire –
“We see, thru your, vain fortitude”
“So be it! A small cost, to fire
The glory, of my latitude!”

I need, no more, another skin
A façade, to veil, my bare chutzpa
I flaunt, the pride, of my sublime sin –
I Am A Naked Enigma!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra