Through lanes of old...

Strolling through the lanes,
of an old city,
soaking up the feeling that was…
Seeing yester years through broken panes,
with all the love, joy and pity,
hearing the echoes of victories and loss!

Those meandering lanes have so much to tell,
of how life was lived before
And of how people wended ways of their lives.
Broken walls so strong before they fell,
many secrets within them stored,
braving the cold and heat, bearing joys and strife!

Houses that held so many,
birthed so many children of this land,
now hidden away amongst creeping vines.
If u try hard enough,
You can still hear the lone field hand,
singing out what his heart pines.

An evening stroll through the place,
seeing all that used to be,
feeling the energy this city once had.
Bazaars, common wells, and open space,
throngs of people once free,
who are now no more there.

Strolling through the lanes of history,
touching the sands and stone,
trying…to see life as it once was.
This land of many tales abounding in mystery,
Whose birds their coop flown,
echoing still of its tales, of its victories and its loss…