You feel, like zephyr’s, fond caress
A sublime sin, on a, balmy dusk
When spills over, passion’s largess
By the tomb, of love, so picturesque!
See Eiffel, bathe in, heaven’s blood
Gazing at, trysts of, love and pain
Where bonds, of sin, and passion bud
From hearts throbbing, with a, cherished bane!
That legend, of the, Prince of Troy
Who waged, for Helen, Trojan War
Still lives on, that, cupid’s decoy
Called ‘Paris’, love’s, lasting metaphor!
Lay spent, goblets of, love and lust
O’er aftermath, of sin’s, delight
There ain’t, love’s shrine, as pure, august
Nor mystique, as, Parisian Twilight!
© 2019 Vikas Chandra
