The moon left it's fleeting silhouette
On the edges of roaring Summer waves
Old Monk in my hand and smoke on my lips
It was 3AM in the city that never sleeps
The breeze of change caressed my hair
And restless dreams found their way into my heart
People singing old Bollywood songs
Drunk on the idea that this city could save their lives
A little hope here, a little prayer there
Between the ocean and the stars on the ground
Right in the centre of dim street lights
I was home.
-Dilz-
YOU ARE READING
Fleeting Feelings. Concrete Words.
PoetryA little memory here, a slight emotion there and lots of moments in between. After all, this journey is nothing but a string of lessons learned, filled with words of hope.
