Faith revels, in the, throes of fear
Joy whispers, misery’s, metaphor
“Be born, again, my Redeemer
To baptize, in this, martyr’s gore”!

Chivalry sways; state betrays; a mother, prays always …
The foe, is not, the one, who seems
The bullet, in my, holy heart, says
“Regimes, sow fear, faith in war, redeems”!

The carols, sound like, distant rain
As I smell, petrichor, of my, widow’s tears
Melded in soil, where my blood, shall remain
Like the passion, of Christ, crucifix bears!

No talisman, just a, smoking gun
My last love, shrouded, in malice
Her yen, won, my shenanigan
A Soldier’s, Lasting, Christmas Kiss … !

© 2020 Vikas Chandra