Quite often, seen, time passing by
Like a funeral, thru life’s, lonely lanes
Where once, stood I, in the, mean mob, a ‘lie’
There only, truth of, death remains!
My shadow, stinks of, estrangement
With the flesh, it carried, to its rot
In the throes, of fall, spring’s sacrament
Is the dream, of love, in a, yearning’s thought!
Did sun forget, to rise, today
Or moon, eclipsed, its insolence
I won’t, wake up, on a, Black Sunday
For the, dark pretense, of existence!
Lest the trinity, taper to, a cipher
Minus me, who held them, poised apart
God’s fear, and, faith of, Lucifer –
Spent Musings, Of An, Unspent Heart!
© 2021 Vikas Chandra