Without Self-Faith, Intellect Is A Curse


A serpent, let, loose, of, its punnet
Uncared, defanged, is a, wild despair
When a, mutinous mind, plays, Russian roulette
Fate, flirts with faith, faith, flirts with fear!

Those, forty four years, of fortitude
Paved, patchy path, for a, prudent man
No more, my word-play, was a platitude
Didn’t, I now, belong to, “The Intellectual’s Clan”!

My ‘halo’, saw, many ‘dimwits’, awe
At the, “Prisoner of, his Paradox”
Wearied of, fitting in, wits’ jigsaw
Was I, better off, the same orthodox!

Dead-Stuck, between, two enigmas
Vain martyr, who, no more, matters
For, “The Doyen, of his, Dilemmas”
Without Self-Faith, Intellect, Is A Curse!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra

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