Hymn of the ruins.


An ancient landscape,
corpses of an entire dynasty,
laying its foundation,
as green grass washes
the forgotten red that once
glorified the battle grounds of Hampi,
and the beauty is born
out of misery,
and the pain leads to gratification,
the bad becomes good,
and over the years,
generations of humanity destroyed,
breeds again from these sands
as magnificent excavations
for visitors and lovers.

There were monkeys, elephants, birds,
ruins, trees, visitors from foreign lands,
cameras, and pure stingy hot sun,
and in the midst of all,
there sat a bird on the grass,
blue and black,
and the Lotus Mahal
its new nest.
The bird flies to her nest
carrying a polythene bag in its mouth,
like a cue mark in the frame
while the most amazing
scene in the movie at the theaters.
We have reached from swords to
chemicals and cell phones,
and the only thing that has changed
in all these centuries is
our methods of self destruction.



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