Where caravan, stops, civilization, begins
New ethos, finds its, expression
Faint traces, of, lost origins
Strewn, like the, art of obsession!

Before, colonists, baptized, this atoll
And ravaged, heritage, of its clan
A mystique, from its, fertile fall
Still strays, its soul, since time began!

Enduring, between, truths, and myths
They guard, the fief, of faith, from fear
The chutzpah, of, these megaliths
Extends, beyond, this isle’s, frontier!

Wandering, an island, all alone
They search, their souls, with hearts, of stone!

May, never end, their pilgrimage
Who, every moment, stand, time’s trial
Destined, to drift, for an, endless age
The Walking Phantoms, of, The Isle!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra