Where stood, the shrine, of silent shame
Now soars, a tomb, of insolence
Since faith, in sublime sin, became
Love’s substance, and, passion’s penance!
The nudge, that spilled, the morning mist
From the, virgin heart, of a, yearning bud
Is the fury, of, same alchemist
Who farms, the spring, with autumn’s blood!
“I’ll find, my solace, in your storm;
Panacea, in poison, of your pain
In the blizzard’s heart, too, a heart throbs, warm
Love’s prism, redeems, all shades, of stain”
“No longer, lasts, that estrangement
We are, one soul, since we have, sinned
Let love, outlast, life’s sacrament”
The Zephyr, Whispered, To The Wind!
© 2021 Vikas Chandra