Who brought this dream, to a cold world?
A ragamuffin wrapped, in a banishment, hurled
Which creed is he, whose DNA?
A nameless soul, a fate astray
A broken birth, a broken boy
A footpath cradles, that castaway toy
How petrified, his every breath
A burdened being, akin to death
He plays pebbles, when not he begs
His lord, the tout, who owns his legs
A lie! This life! But was he ever promised?
Belonging to none, a sin, so a soul, never missed
Belong does he, to his tout’s decree
Baptized “Beethoven”, got a creed, to plead
Rendered drifter, marching Glossy Street
A human wrecked, in a world incomplete
Every season has a reason, as gloom has one
This Beethoven’s sonata, a torn life, unspun
Unschooled life, untaught music, a broken symphony
Sustained betwixt joys and woes, a humble harmony
He hits the streets, with his plaintive strokes
How pain deciphers melody, to distant folks
When manhood, knocked his, childhood down
Made a man, stunted, an outraged clown
“Beethoven, Beethoven, your husky tone
Have you lost your marbles, has that orphan outgrown?
Who named you so, another underdog?
What in world are you, misery’s monolog!?”
“I ain’t Beethoven, every name, I despise
What a name, makes a man! A soul-less guise?
Me, the same orphan, knows not, what is mother
Wants to see and tell her, I’d not be born, rather”
© 2015 Vikas Chandra