The City of Deads

Floor of cloud stares
beneath your feet,
bounded with wide
red-hued horizon.

Far away it hides
the paradise
you were looking
long back.

Snow landing invites
you to set your foot
on the fluffy white,
to pause for a while.

It asks you to listen
the saga of the kingdom
that lived long ago
up above the land.

A grand tale
set in white,
freezed in their
last moment of life.

Some of them died
in terror or grief.
Others showed valour
in their troubled time.

Light caresses the dead,
shining fleetingly
on their face giving
a new lease of life.

Only to be taken
away the next moment
when it rains.

(I came up with this poem when I was going on a flight and staring through my window towards the setting sun in the horizon with clouds all over the place. A scene of beauty and pure joy in the eyes of the world seemed to convey to me something else. )

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