In stony relic, with emerald fur
I see, a past, beyond an age
Here stands, threadbare, a time’s martyr
In placid heart, seethes, a spent outrage!

It speaks of, my legend, my decay
This verdant tomb, time’s unheard sigh
Every truth today, sounds like, hearsay
History’s each myth, a barefaced lie!

Underneath, the cloudy, heaven’s shroud
I gaze, at the maker, of my faith
The misery, of a, sin avowed
In the womb, of today, yesterday’s wraith!

No sooner than, I stroke, its skin
I see, it bleed, and mortify
I feel, an age drown, deep within
By The Mossy Wall, Under Somber Sky!

© 2019 Vikas Chandra