Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Night and After Night.



The dark dome was stolen,
'but it will be replaced', sighed someone.
The pillars, painted with green,
stood unprovoked,
though a stir, a movement, a turmoil,
was seen on the ground.

It was altogether a new sight:
a scene without the dark dome.
It was unimagined,
exquisite and brand new.
It was a gift.
Every gift is special, bright;
it can only be marked with a light,
with the truest smile, silent.

The dark dome was a protection,
under the unknown designs-
of storms and thunders.
It had designs on its highest part;
shining buttons. And a hole,
which appears and disappears,
at times with fourteen days in between,
which passes the light in;
needed a repair, but none did anything to it.
The dome had been stolen.
The night by the sun,
to make something visible.
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