• enigma96 45w

    Keeping quiet

    The noisy streets , once permeated by commuters
    Are now as still as the rarely trodden graveyards.
    The thundering sound once made by the zestful riders
    Is now a complete stranger to the empty boulevards.
    The classroom that once rejoiced
    Along with the frisky butterflies,
    Now seems desolate and wretched ,
    Mourning constantly , hiding her tears.
    The markets hosting a plethora of vendors
    Now sigh, gazing at the shut doors of the stalls
    The parks once enlivened by the jolly songs of the toddlers
    Now await eagerly the visitors' strolls.