The ones, who choose, the starkest shades
Drenched in, tears of, saturnine sun
Pain is, the faith, of renegades
Who are, born to kiss, oblivion!

The mystique, of my, ‘Starry Night’
The truth, of ‘Wheat Field’, in my works
Why with blood, I paint, my twilight
Whilst world, disdains a, genius’s quirks!

I sell, to death, yet they, don’t buy
Expressions, of my, existence
Why my enigma, be your, lie
Ain’t lunacy, arts’ quintessence!

May, all the more, sunflowers bleed
Like a forlorn, artist’s endeavor
In joy’s soul, pain’s, eternal seed
The Sadness, Will, Last Forever!

© 2019 Vikas Chandra