Diamonds Bequeath Rain

By Ishaan Dikshit

Trickles of fallen ashes

And scenes of cast repair

Burned the sky with lashes,

Devoid, the air.

Survivors of times forgotten,

Temperament unfair.

Littered across the landscape,

A view to scare.

Parched and lethargic,

With empty bowls raised to the skies,

Hoping for salvation which may never come,

Their eyes filled with lies.

Squalors and meanders of riches prevail,

A line of nature devout,

Tempting with rage and anger,

The city's life about.

To reach out they try,

To be seen and heard.

Those who gave an unruly glance,

Their expressions beyond absurd.

Heavenly principles and manners no doubt,

Separate the others from looking south,

Ashamed they are to see what's within

The land of their creation, the lasting sin.

Prayers and hope echo throughout,

For a day that will end without,

Pain or death or screams of fear

Where one can sleep, without a tear.

Time will take, and take it all.

These might monuments of society

Will fall.

And when its time to build again

All that remains are

The diamonds that bequeath rain.

By Ishaan Dikshit