Still a faith, mourns for, its temple lost
By a tomb, of stone, o’er feet of clay
Who says, ended, history’s holocaust
Still goes on, faith and, fear’s melee!
With a, bleeding heart, and a, screaming soul
Endures a, rabbi, blessed bliss
The Promised Land, still bears, its toll
Still Jews, pay faith, fear’s lip service!
What remains, of a waiting, mother’s arms
And the yearning, of her, kin’s exile
A hymn of hope, amidst, myths’ psalms
Seed of, sublime sin, in a, farm fertile!
Paradox of, three Prophets, and their fears
Lives on, in their faiths’, profound recall
Life’s haunting dirge, past penned, present hears
The Whispers Of The Wailing Wall!
© 2019 Vikas Chandra