This night is an asthmatic
wheezing its way on long years
of treads and pauses
long streets of loneliness
usurped by vacant eyes of another dawn
Gwalior remains the same
gripped by a hegemony
of moments
growing in wild abandon
left unwillingly in an insanity and rust
of a lonesome cannon
only the shadows of the fort
holds another promise
only your eyes
behind a palace jali
broke the defense
of a monsoon
song.
