Dare, he watched, his garden, with outrage
Strewn legacy, of his, feared blitzkrieg
With, few moments, left, of his pilgrimage
The ‘Saint of Sin’, swayed, in intrigue!

Holed up, in the nook, of his, fallen fortress
Once Führer, today, tomb, of his fear
Bade adieu, to the state, mere pawn, of his chess
And kissed, Swastika, his kampf’s, souvenir!

In his foxhole, lazed, his one-night, bride
To make, last love, to their, estrangement
As Satan, still, drunk, in his pride
Readied, the cross, of his, sacrament!

The man, who shook, ethos, of the earth
Imploded, to, cipher, it seems
A narcist, found, his vanity’s, worth
Amidst, The Shambles, Of His Dreams!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra