A Stallion Lost In The Mystique’s Mist

vikas chandra

At the passage, where, time’s truths, lay spent
He’s the, lone tomb, of his, quests’ conquests
Sacrament, in the shroud, of estrangement
Is the myth, his machismo, manifests!

Outrun by time, in the life’s, long race
Who’s tethered, to faith, reined in, by fear
For a pilgrim, on, inertia’s chase
Vainglory’s cross, is left, to bear!

In this furor, fed by, miasma
Is drenched, to bone, a cynical soul
Brutus, in the snare, of his enigma…
Dissolves, in twilight, o’er smoldering coal!

Nirvana is, last lust of all, the modest, and the majestic
Beyond end, death is, life’s alchemist
Between faith’s figment, and, fear’s epic
A Stallion Lost, In The, Mystique’s Mist!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra

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