An enigma, lives, this forlorn isle
Deluded, by, self-estrangement
How its, grandeur, misery, reconcile
With the stigma, of its, sacrament!

Where life, is lost in, time’s paradigm
Amidst, bullet trains; ethnic excellence
Where subsistence, is a, sin sublime
A race, relegates, social existence!

Where births, are low, and suicides, high
And people, pride, themselves, in their pain
Life sleeps, each night, to death’s lullaby
Whilst cherries bleed, this breed’s, profound stain!

Who cherish, to death, life’s schizophrenia
They don’t need, God, whom Satans bless
The soulless Samurais, Of The, Millennia
With Ministry, Of Their, Loneliness!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra