If need be, sell your soul, for it
That, social shroud, life’s, Holy Grail
Between the two, what should, we commit
Blasphemy, or sin, in survival’s travail!
Each shred, of heart, to feed, his hearth
What else, is man, but a, bread-earner
Whilst world, weighs him, with his, vendible worth
He shoves, his dreams, into back-burner!
Works leads him, to the truths, of world
And the lies, of pride, and prejudice
His value is, proportionately, absurd
To the job, that buys, social malice!
Man fights, with faith, his worldly fears
With his, fortitude, social insolence
And rears, with his blood, and sweat, and tears
Between Job, And Bread, That ‘Existence’!
© 2020 Vikas Chandra
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