The shadowy boulevards

Painted the walls to

Be coloured, the shadows

Silhouetted the veneered

Still in chiaroscuro,

Nuances of the 

Shades are bursting

Of cavernous layers, not

Discernable to onlookers,

Light smites a note

To be disengaged

From all; incrusted

Concealed in the night,

Slumbering empty 

Stomach, the days 

Shroud in tears in quest 

Of food, pleading for 

A penny, the childhood

Have vanished in tenebrous,

What remnants are the 

Thoughts to sleep at least

For a day's sustenance, God has

Been generous to make us live

Each day, without our prayer,

He makes us breathe, not a piece

Of dust for us bury self when

The body makes a fall one day.

By Orbindu Ganga

From: India

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