The ritual of, counting my days
More than, the moments, lived in them
Are calendars, empty essays
Of happenstances, ad hominem!

There Will Be Time, when I resent, past’s insolence
And truth, of today, in history’s guile
Senescence, if at all, is existence
And the life, I spent, was worth its while!

There Will Be Time, to dissect, every liaison
To the, basic strand, of its avarice
A child’s play, spread out, every so often
World’s no more, beyond a, prejudiced premise!

There Will Be Time, a cynic saint, will blaspheme God
As faith’s façade, and fear’s paradigm
Since myths, are truths, with notions flawed
To baptize truths, as sins sublime, There Will Be Time…!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra