The Franz Kafka Syndrome


vikas chandra

To the, last drop, of his, Jewish blood
Insolent sin, blasé outrage!
In his farm, of fear, faith’s fertile bud
Would outlast him, beyond an, age!

When élan, sacrament, self-esteem
Are estranged, as hope, and despair
In the mind, of a genius, grandeur’s dream
Is a pride, prejudice, and passion’s affair!

World fêtes man,for, bohemian thought
Whilst his, life defies, diktats of death
Was Shakespeare, naïve, beyond a doubt
Who composed, Hamlet, and Macbeth!

He chose, to last, in what, he burnt
The millstone, of his, travail’s tome
And left, a legacy, literature learnt
The Franz Kafka Syndrome!

© 2019 Vikas Chandra

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