It had, run riot, for an age
To fall silent, on a, forlorn day
In my, shrine of sin, tomb of, outrage
It left, no recall, just a, mystic melee!

Alas, alas, life won’t be, the same
Without the bane, of that, profound pain
The fear, of christening, love, with a name
Passion, is an, estrangement, profane!

How a, little itch, grew into, lasting ache
In the, abyss, of my, enigma
The loss, of my heart, is my, mind’s keepsake
And a, lovelorn soul’s, sinful stigma!

I sift, thru tides, in the, throes of time
Where a, dream dallied, before it drowned
In the, sea of, my, misery sublime
A Heartbeat, Lost, To Be, Never Found!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra