How many, bouts, measure, a man
Beyond, all those, he won, or lost
A pilgrim, in, time’s caravan
Dares to, not bear, banality’s cost!
Who chose, to sleep, in, history’s grave
Were the ones, who, embraced, inertia
Begs not, for glory, that, time gave
Whose God, and faith, is, his chutzpa!
Who swills, the venom, of his birth
And wipes, the fate line, off his hand
Will prove, to world, beyond, mortal worth
“Legends, need, no traces, on, time’s sand!”
Between, cul-de-sac, and, deja vu
An age, squirms at, redemption’s gates
Yet rises, from the, dust of Waterloo
For Whom, The Time, Waits!
© 2022 Vikas Chandra