This paradigm, of, ritual of time
Where present, recounts, every, moment lost
Is, no longer, worth, a damn, dead dime
In yearnings, what, redeems, its cost!

It swayed, on, my mind’s, inertia
Old calendar, by, a rusting nail
Like, a poster, of, perestroika
Purchased retail, auctioned, wholesale!

Why, to found, lost time’s, new megaliths
When a, quiet funeral, would, just be fine
Every year, is a sum, of, truths and myths
Of, dogmas, only, God can define!

A, new gamble, awaits, my fate
Where, fortitude, flirts, with, faith and fear
Yet again, I fall for, the “New Year Bait”
For The, Promise Of, Another Year!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra