When We Become The Mist Of Fall

How we, dissolved in, rites of time
To last, an age, of senescence
Love has, to be, the paradigm
Of this tryst, of two realms’, dalliance!

When played, a medley, on your skin
The whiffs, of yearning, sniffs of sin
Those sighs, that breathed, a sweet mystique
Are all, but lost, in a, fading streak!

There ain’t, those riots, left in us
Whose fury, fueled our, kiln of lust
That earthy, trace of, a bread pious
Is laden now, with an, age of dust!

I’ve weathered, beyond daze, of cologne
As you, count despairs, in joys’ recall
Bloom buds, of spring, o’er love’s tombstone
When We Become The Mist Of Fall!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra

One comment

Leave a Reply