Why hid today, saturnine sun
Behind that maze, of a, murky cloud!
That stray kite, is all, but forgotten
Who flirted life, beyond, death’s shroud!
Same streets, same mobs, same platitudes abound
But not me, in them, anymore
If a ‘child’s play, be our, truth ‘profound’
I’m done, with this, ritualistic chore!
Who suckled, my life, my kith and kin
Are no more, beads of, my rosary
Why existence, is a, cherished sin
A lust, for life, so ordinary!
Delusions break, themselves, for good
What the, unread last-page, obituaries say
Stands poised today, where, eternity stood
Conjecture of A Perfect Suicide Day!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra