On turning of a road, dusky and dry
Stands alone a temple shattered and cracked
The golden hay grown so high
And gate is broken, everyone allowed
The pathway has no footprints to follow
And the shrubs has grown untamed
The well on left is dry and shallow
And covered with shriveled leaves
The walls ruptured still standing tall
Precarious doors with no bolts to clasp
Roof is divided, ready to fall
Windows open counting a gasp
Once a time it must be a multitude
Worshiping sacred chants
Echoes of bells, fragrance of flowers
A sculpture standing to enchant
The sculpture standing alone now
Still and static way
Thinking “why they brought me here?
To demand or to pray”
Body once was decorated
Now with cobwebs and dust
Alone he standing same like before
Looking his own world….
1 comment:
The world is just that way.....
Its time that moves on.
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