घुड़सवार

Intense heat flares

akin to the vermeil flood

surging on blushed cheeks,

bricks halted in emotions but to bud anew.

Unnoticed, the grey smoke exits the chimney,

sheathing the turquoise blue-tinted sky.

Obelisks of flames rise to

witness the martyrdom of old forms—

follies, temptations, chaos, contentions—

the hard-wearing spirit in every

vein of bricks shines bright.

Rotating updraft of heat

as hideous as it can be,

slaves of hardships never cease to educate;

temperamental spalling inadmissible

in a hard-hitting world,

high alumina and silica unite as brothers—

as in one prepares, combining body and mind—

collectively save from ruinous defeat.

Darker days alter to cooler ones—

the scent of flowers, chirping of birds,

serener hours come into play—

lives transform from bitter to sweet,

beaming with wondrous ecstasy.

Ridding the manacles from

the fiery forge to the tough walls,

characters are built from scratch,

echoes of memories remain to be noted,

steering lives of resolute sound.