When Maples Bleed In September

Is it, last calling, of the fall
Or a, broken arrow, in, my heart
Has come, of age, a raw recall
In the pantheon, of pain, battles Mozart!

Whose yearning, filled the, sweetest sting
In the, forlorn vagrant’s, lovelorn core
Is fall, a bane, and spring, blessing
Two faces, of, misery’s metaphor!

They subtly sway, by the, zephyr’s caress
Lost in, musings, a myriad saints
Faith, seeks freedom, from, fear’s finesse
Fortitude, grows strong, in fear’s restraints!

Faith’s, finest fest, baptized, by blood
Splendor’s, inferno, who won’t, remember
Panacea, of death, resurrects, life’s bud
When Maples, Bleed, In September!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra

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