The Gallery – Delhi Poetry Slam

The Gallery

By Nida Rayan

I walk to the oriel bay styled window and gaze at the 

forest beneath me,

the white dusty pillars supporting the structure which 

 go unnoticed as ever. 

The sun setting,  

giving away all of it's last warmth

as thought bidding farewell for the night to 

creep into it's position. 

Looking at this beautiful departure my gaze 

softens. 

The branches of the wise old banyan cover the 

soil. 

The Martlets rest their nests on the steeples of 

the place. 

Peace reigns over.


Leave a comment