It ain’t cataract, that shrouds, my prism
But the wisdom, of my, passing age
Rainbow’s mystique, lost to, realism
Life’s voyage, lost to, a pilgrimage!
Was it, a dream, I clenched, in my fist
Or the, fertile soil, of my, holy grave
Every moment, seems a, banal tryst
And life, a faith, fear, and, time’s slave!
What’s there, to know, when all, is known
I spent, my life, in learning lies
To find, as I head, to my, last milestone
Every truth, is a, virtual compromise!
When the man, does die, does the cradle, cry
It breeds, a new faith, and, its fears
I lie, in my grave, hearing, death’s lullaby
… Adding Days, To My, Fading Years … !
© 2020 Vikas Chandra