Of all the goblets left behind
Which I emptied which emptied me
This is the one you may not find
In the graffiti of my obituary !

An inevitable banality
Life would be still in the throes of time
Without my mutinous personality
Who streaked paradigm of a sin sublime !

Sleep was a daily rite of death
No more, no more, for my restless soul
Immortal now without gluttonous breath
That measured life’s existential toll !

Still sweeper smears the sun with dust
From streets trampled by human herd
Spent days drown in twilight’s bloodlust
Moon blooms once more in sin’s orchard !

My flesh rots on my stubborn bone
What died was not my rhapsody
Which echoes beyond my forlorn tombstone
Miles and miles Every Day Without Me !

© 2020 Vikas Chandra