To live, with, half an, existence
Estranged with, rites of, the other world
Governed by, politics, of pretense
Is an enigma, more than, absurd!

To head, which way, when state betrays
And ethos, sinks in, rotting gore
That love, for land, now mourns malaise
Of the, faith’s fabric, two brothers tore!

God made, a world, without frontiers
Men fractured it, to, hard-fought fiefs
Dictated by, their, mutual fears
Is the pride, and prejudice, of their beliefs!

Between, barbed fence, and aerodrome
I stare, at the ruins, of my, faith’s fallen fort
Sin-ce life, became a, sin-ical sin-drome
With A Soul, Sans, A Passport!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra