I’m, a stray kite, still, in élan’s sky
Who broke, free of, rituals of time
Manhood, means not, boyhood, I deny
To the man, who dares, life’s paradigm!
Still, wets me, rain, whets me, tamarind
I mind, no mud, nor, torn half-pants
A dandelion, lost, in a gust, of wind
Whom, pilgrimage, to past, enchants!
I, never let, that, virtue die
My clan, condemned to, past’s funeral
Never, forgot I, that lullaby
Which, tethers me, to, my cradle!
I raised, a shrine, tombstone, they laid
Who counted, down, breaths, with outrage
I chose, to be, timeless renegade
The Man, Who, Refused, To Age!
© 2022 Vikas Chandra