[align=center]I seek a moment of glory
In a country where steel and glass
Create the narrative in a concrete story

I seek a touch of dewy green
Amongst the flury of ironed creases
In a world where all must be pristine

I seek a smell of amalgamation
In places of masked auras, silver floras
Walking past me in the station

I seek a journey of noise
Of crumpled paper and beckoning calls
Unknown in these palaces of poise

I seek a site of constant growth
Of richness in daily and fertile history
Incomparable is this hearts dear oath

I seek a touch of carved art
Of intricacies in colour that go beyond
This land which I want but cannot part.


By - Me[/align]

WOW!



Next level dudette, next level. I feel the power of every line and of every word. I feel your frustration and yearning.

Mate, this is excellent! Wonderful to the imagination.
Masha'Allah, masha'Allah! xxx