The Old Man Bops In Broken Boots

vikas chandra

Whose madness, is worth, all my mirth
A man, more than, talisman, to me
That world, baptized him, “Mr. Dearth”
Which frets, in façades, of sanity!

He chases, shadows, on highway
Who lost, his heart, hearth, hamlet too
O’er smoke, and a peg, he laughs away
Life’s enigma; death’s bugaboo!

Is estrangement, no existence!
Or the, only trail, to transcendence
There’s splendor, in his, blasé smile
Like faith, blooming o’er, fear fertile!

How long, will last, this lone caravan
A pilgrim’s, pursuits, beyond, his roots
O’er heart, of an, endless road, deadpan
The Old Man, Bops In, Broken Boots!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra

View original post

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