That endless quest, to the, cuckoo’s nest
Beyond beauty, of the, trinity
Is all, what’s left, of that bequest
When faith, not fear, was, uncertainty!

Without the, millstone of, ‘deep thoughts’
We crossed, the shallow, seas with ease
Where we, once sowed, forget-me-nots
Still blooms, that wasteland, sways with sprees!

Before senescence, made, any sense
We baptized, bare, in rain, and sun
Innocence, had to, end in, insolence
Age gave, faith a, sinful dimension!

Now, pigeonholed shadows, of our past
In, classy cults, that, seek ‘results’
Alas, that age, wasn’t meant, to last
When We, Hunted Time, With Catapults!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra