Plinth & floors in no time,
All else locked but it shalt made to rise;
When noise no more felt nor pain,
Seeing, constructing who at last engaged.
Shalt not own one nor reside,
As their hands pick bricks not price;
Unmasked in dust or rain, breathe,
If plinth no more, then all too cease.
There’s no dusk nor any-day dawn,
The tickets shalt sell else all forlorn;
With every deep breath before sleep,
With sun arisen so unloading of bricks in heap.
The construction from the window is heard,
And carries wind hymns before or after work;
Pandemonium once, now gives solace,
Not to ears but knowing until plinth, smile on their face.🙂
© Pranav Chaturvedi 2020