Lonely evenings

When the sky becomes clad with crimson,
And seeing the sun does not hurt the eyes
I set out on my evening walks,
To curb my loneliness with the sights and sounds outside.

The vegetable market with its hustle and bustle passes on the way,
An old vendor selling onions wipes his exhausting day's perspiration with a tattered cloth;
The well-dressed man standing beside him is hurtling bargains and offenses at him,
Perhaps his expensive specs make him blind to the old man's sunken eyes and pale face.

The chirping of birds is audible as I move ahead,
While a group of rag-pickers,laughing,shouting,running,passes me,
Their large sacks contain their kingly hopes and the meager items of worth picked from the garbage,
While their eyes search for love and care in this diabolical material world.

The chirping of birds is fading away,
While the crimson sky is preparing to wrap itself in a black shroud,
Signalling me to retrace my steps
And return from a lonely evening to a gloomy night.

Mine:)

Thank you dear readers and vocal team 💗