There Won’t Be Time To Write Them All

Life’s daily trysts, for an, alchemist
Are beyond, platitudes, scattered, in time
But to, clutch at thoughts, with his, pint-sized fist
Is the, quandary, of his, ‘sin sublime’!

How tilling thru, creeds and, conjectures
Is a pilgrimage, of angst, and pain
For a farmer, who measures, life’s labors
By those, yields of beliefs, he lost, in vain!

In the search, of a thought, to write about
Man, seeks himself, in his, metaphor
Beyond the ken, of his, flair’s ‘redoubt’
Lay an, endless world, left to, explore!

Since we count, our life, in ticks, of clock
That graffiti, crucified, on, time’s wall
Before life, runs out, of, time’s chalk
Don’t laze, o’er, lost moments’, recall
There Won’t, Be Time, To Write, Them All!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra

One comment

Submit a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s