Last one, was an, unwon, gamble-game
A treason, of reason, it seemed
Lest, this too, turn out, to be, same
A dream, never, ever, redeemed!

Every morning, rise from, nothingness
And measure, flight, to oblivion
I’m a, clay-pigeon, of my, religion
Broke, by twilight, more or less!

Beyond, faith’s hope, and, Divinity’s promise
In my, mind’s eye, is my, very own fief
Sleep is, not my, only nemesis
But the phantoms, who flirt, with my belief!

There is solace, in, prison of thoughts
Just as freedom, in a lost, stray kite
In my, wasteland of, forget-me-nots
Why, Shouldn’t I, Dream, Tonight!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra