• lonely_potato 10w


    A thousand orange diamonds
    Refracting the dimming light,
    Of a Sun that wishes to fall asleep,
    On the ancient river's surface
    Against the backdrop of a city
    Which seems but a fragment of imagination,
    Science fiction's machination;
    Only reality by these buzzing shores
    Are the rustling peepal leaves
    And ancient temples to infinite Gods
    With their braziers lit and hot
    And their thresholds washed and kissed
    By an eternal procession
    Of those that wish to believe
    And have done so since antiquity.

    Chants and incense wafting
    Its overwhelming effervescence innate
    Through the crowded, praying ghats;
    I dont believe their eccentricity
    But I can't help but be amazed
    That the sinking Sun must have gazed
    Through ritual's smoky haze
    On these bowing, mortal heads
    For ages too old to now recall
    And yet they keep coming,
    Their mouths, they keep humming
    Their prayers with simple wishes
    Spoken in so many tongues
    Yet with the same essence.