The Same Bloodbath Is Life Each Day

vikas chandra

Same tomb, laid out, over, wrinkled bed!
Growing graffiti, of termites, on my wall
A morning’s litany, gone unheard, a night’s funerary, left unread
I’m a, lasting yearning, of the fall!

Same battle, for bread, baptized by blood!
In a herd, where toil, is a sacrament, of sweat
And debauchery, discerns, a ‘stud’, from a ‘dud’
Epitaph, thus became, my life’s, epithet!

I sip, sun’s blood, from the chalice, of sea
Whilst I, stitch my, broken nerves, by the sin, of twilight
Then sink, in the tides, of trinity
And kiss mermaids, in the, moonlit night!

I’m a, restless platitude, ever born, to stray
From the, cradle of life. to the altars, of melee
Between faith, and fear, sentenced to sway
The Same, Bloodbath Is, Life Each Day!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra

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