Breaking the barricade of the dense sunrise,
Moist darkness establishes the fact, that
Light is not impervious.
When crystals turn to splinters on encroaching silence crowds in.
Visionaries – have they become somnambulists?
In a spiritless city, from the silver minarets,
A virus like, ancient, urban value, floats up –
Clinging onto some inconsequential ether bubble.
Thoughts, barraging on against the deluge
Of technological civilization, try and try again.
Yet, when the century halts,
Trembling fingers still talk of revolution.
No comments:
Post a Comment