He built it, o’er the, tomb of, his toils
Our hearth, where heart, believed in hope
Who fought, his fate, in bazaar, of broils
A soul, walking, social tightrope!

His shoulders, heaved me, to the sky
Enduring mast, of, fortitude’s, flag
Whose ode, to life – “Never Say Die”
Was all, I had, to cherish, and brag!

To me, never he, was a man, in the mob
But the, lone sower, of the seeds, of my dreams
A man, martyred, in a, thankless job!
Fatherhood’s pain, manhood redeems!

He paved, my soul, with faith galore
My dark alleys, with lasting light
In the, world of fear, faith’s metaphor
Father, Father, Burning Bright … !

© 2019 Vikas Chandra