The Beige Wall

The tall tanned boy, Stood by the cornice of the building. Glancing at the road beneath, The path stood staunch as a milestone That labeled yet another customary, novel chapter Of his burdened chronicle.  The tall tanned boy, Fancied if the rumors were true, Of the day he was born; Of the handsome frolics And the parade of folks, Amused at the new arrival. The tall tanned boy, Turned down the truth Of these bewitching stories; As he recalled, The chain of life episodes that pulled him, To the cornice of the building. The tall tanned boy, Continued to walk through the memory tunnel,  Of tender years; That brought appreciation for excellence.  Along with the dreary hope; Fatiguing him of their burden. The tall tanned boy, Ran through the grounds of youth, Of the days that demanded no heed. The hours he spent breathing for 'them', The hours he spent desk-bound, And those he couldn't- being imprudent. The tall tanned boy, Longed for his pulse like...

The lucid lens of the window peers into the city far away A land unknown and unnamed in the years bygone. Wrapped in a warm blanket; eyes reflecting the starry array, Reveling the amity of moon; oblivious of the slithering dawn. Stolid shadows rippling like dwellers of the ocean night, Under the flickering warmth of homely lanterns Folks wishing for the city to pause under a shooting star's sight, Captive of the fading fog; glance refusing to return. Passing through nights a dusky film sits on the lens, The city now swelters, shadowing the silhouettes of them folks, A skeleton of buildings 'adorned' with gaudy lights; dense Incessant blares replacing the euphony, in the land that bleeds and chokes. Blinds of fog, mask the scars, To name it- The city of Fog and Stars.  -Vedanshi Shah