The dawn dipped in crimson light,
Ingress the morn,
the dark tousled night struts away,
cracking the meditative silence
into voices and noises
of frantic tweets, footsteps of calloused feet, holy bells,
anxious beats, wind chimes,
and gentle breeze.
It’s a panoramic view through the immortal street,
through which the life in its grey streaks constantly walk,
to reach the home called distant dream.