Why smells, like menses, of monsoon
Remembrance, of a spring, lost in fall
I hear, the mermaids, moon and swoon
In my heart, with your, profound recall!
Stung by, thorn of, your sweet despair
Once a nightingale, is a, rioting-gale
Blinded, in the snare, of a long-spent, affair
I search, your lost shadows, in braille!
Lest, I leap out of, my shriveling skin
And you slip, into my, wedding gown
Time costs, alas, more than, age of sin
Come, watch your ‘megalith’, melting down!
Why should we call them, who can’t break, shackles of time
Why present, has to be, past’s aftermath
Why you had, to be my, pain’s paradigm
How Long, Will Last, Your Thoughts’ Bloodbath!
© 2021 Vikas Chandra