By the, edge of loch, where the moorland, stood
I set out, to that, unseen yard
For the heart, of the mystique, of the wood
Yearned, the solemn spirit, of the bard!

Heart’s quest, turned into, soul’s conquest
When, a pilgrim, found his, pilgrimage
Why nature, hides, beauty’s bequest
In the, dark depths, of, wasteland’s outrage!

The unfound, farm, where, hope still blooms
Amidst, all enigmas, of the world
Only estrangement, is all, that looms
On the way, to, time’s, lost orchard!

What began, out in wild, had to, end, deep within
Every mile, of its progress, worth, time’s travail
Resents, why’s beauty, a subliminal sin
A Pilgrim, Lost On, Orchid Trail!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra