The rosary, of our, ‘sinful’ creed
Recounts, the beads, of, tangled time
At, faith’s altar, fear, has pilloried
Our ethos, for a, ‘crime’ ‘sublime’!

Heart trembles, to turn, old pages
Mired in, sacraments, of history
Regrets, of moments, worth ages
Deciphers, our lives’, chemistry!

In time’s race, to, trample itself
The very, moment, it is, born
Our existence, is a, forlorn elf
Ever bled, by, melancholia’s, thorn!

We are, the Messiahs, of today
For prophets, are not, born to last
History, won’t be, misery’s melee
The Day, We Learn, To Forgive Past

© 2021 Vikas Chandra