That Cradle Of Wood, That Cart Of Clay


From the quest, of heart, conquest of world
To this, pilgrimage, that, I became
Vanquished Messiah, of the, hedonists’ herd
Is now, nothing more, than a, baptized name!

Why, it had, to be, my destiny
This estrangement, from my, mother’s womb
An existence, worth, ignominy
I ain’t, life’s vim, but its, lingering tomb!

Now fear, is faith, and faith, is fear
Of that boy, who never shied, from rain
Who tethered me, to this cross, I bear
A martyr vain, flaunts his, pious pain!

Still squirms, in the sanctum, of my soul
That élan, which paved, my dreams’, way
That lad yearns, from this, man’s pigeonhole
At the funeral, of, fate’s castaway
For, That Cradle, Of Wood, That Cart, Of Clay!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra

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