Kalpurush

French Romanticism reached my city

Walking through sleepy afternoon lanes I hear meal heavy stomachs heave out sighs Of a momentary relief of illusion Roads seem blurry, Skies seem hazy, Dogs and crowds scream no more.

French Romanticism reached my city

The nights are quiet and chilly. Somewhere in the neighbourhood you'll hear a bark or two The windows are closed but the life from within seeps out into the open The street lamp outshines it all unless you look high enough And there within the clouds you'll see The face of tomorrow

French Romanticism reached my city

Through screens I watch road after road I watch feet, I watch slogans and I watch bloodshed Tilaks of red and orange mark people's foreheads Green isn't confined to just the trees. Blues and whites are a rare sight Black lies within these hearts

French Romanticism reached my city

Here people like to call everything a Revolution Songs of days gone by resurface, Lyrics of a bygone time make more sense with every passing day Writers have it easy these days, Storytellers don't. Ashes turn to ashes, But my bones, no they won't.