Stand columns of concrete
As far as the horizon.
As the sun rises
The columns turn darker
Each seeming to eclipse the sun.
A flock of birds, black as the pillars, flies past them.
And another flock flies by in the glassy confines of each.
Ah! A glimpse of alternate worlds.
Rivers of concrete crisscross the land.
Wheeled boats cruising noiselessly on them
The riverbanks remain desolate,
No one to amble along,
No one to sit idly by,
Definitely no one to fish!
Merely dotted by wharfs from where
New boats set sail and old ones drop anchors;
And islands with people marooned.
Pillars emanating amber light stand tall
Lighting up the world beneath; not the one above.
So different from the streaks of light in many hues
Which pass along the concrete rivers,
Appearing like ethereal serpents
The rivers themselves tainted in colours varied
From the amber suns and the concrete pillars above.
So bright, yet so dull; so intense but so cold.
The riverbanks look eerie,
The marooned people far more anxious
This urban creation far more frightening
Than its natural counterpart.
Oh! Their joy on seeing their fated boats from afar
Is something unnatural.
As the time passes,
The pillars turn invisible
The rivers empty
The riverbanks forlorn
With predators in ambush, who knows?
Till the next day begins
With another eclipsed sunrise.