In the glory, of that, solitary isle
Ingrained, enigma of, her prejudice –
“’That world’, with an, ethos imbecile,
Awaits, our noble, ‘Ethnic Justice’!”

They brought, their ’speech’, its ‘grace’ along
To the, ‘speechless’ slaves, of history
Who forgot their, ‘salvation’s’ song
With a, new ‘tongue’s’, ‘colonial chemistry’!

Amidst white poise, and its, cold blood
With a, passion profound, prospered a creed
In the farm, of fertile fear, bloomed bud
Of art’s legacy, from slavery’s seed!

Those ‘slaves’, now write, better literature
A bond, which thawed, that ‘Ethnic Rift’
Sweet sin, of a, ‘lasting indenture’
English Is That ‘Colonial Gift’!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra