Just a Poem

On a quiet evening,
this city folded
into usual mosaic moments
looped in solitude

streets were alive
With people's hunger.
Hungry people were
going home
or looking for one,
to make love or
to be loved.

industries were
sleeping dead for a while
like a tired prostitute
after eating iron and
shitting this century

on such an evening,
I walked along
on its shore
from one streetlight
to another
breathing,
aching,
rotting,
diseased
& making love
with her.

We had seeds.
Seeds of ideas
to answer
every question
with another question.

we had our poems
to bring anarchy
into these fossilized
labyrinths of sanity

we had
our unquestionable love
for the humanity
& peace.

I said,
'darling,
lets drink & laugh,
let's make love
For one last time.
Then let's hold hands
and walk where
this city burns.'

and
without a word,
she just smiled
same as yesterday.