Why a pilgrim yearns to end it all
The lust of body, heart and soul
In the throes of life’s lasting fall
Embracing new forsaking ole!

My tombstone is my last milestone
After a painful pilgrimage
No God, no faith, just fear alone
Is in the fist of my outrage!

I hear a million magpies mourn
At the funeral of my moribund dreams
With hearts impaled against a thorn
A fest of death by life, it seems!

I too shall, one day, die and decay
My pride and prejudice both lay bare
I long to lay, in, cradle of clay
WHEN A WISP OF DUST DANCES IN AIR!

© 2023 Vikas Chandra