A conclusion of spatial expanse.*

A womb of spiritual enlightenment.

A black hole of inspiration,

And yet, a liberator of confinement.

A sentinel of forgotten, forlorn frequencies of merriment.

An embrace of reminiscent thought and faded, jaded grey cement.

A loving communion of two star-struck lovers in concrete

Trotting towards each other,

Soundlessly.

A captor of balmy summer whiffs and  drowsy whispers from the past,

A crater of snug seclusion; an architectural outcast,

A receptacle of vein-like tendrils and rain-like cascades of delight,

A Mecca for cravers of quiet and seekers of fortitude alike,

A misshapen, forsaken corner.
Squatting at the end of a garden,
Significantly warmer.

~•~

The dying sun then lunges at this lonely corner, grey and bare,**

Refusing to abate his light, a stubborn, high-nosed doctrinaire,

And touches up its grey hiccups to soft and fine-tuned wounds of white,

Smugly smirking at his work, before retiring for the night.

The crease dividing both the walls then grows in color, blur and size,

The concrete lovers now rejoice, their shapes by shadows plagiarised,

The Sun exhausts his final toss of orange, and a bridal hue

Of sweetish blue descends upon the lone, romantic rendezvous.

~•~

Returning to its ghostly nature, as the godly legislature wills,•

The lone, romantic corner now discards its homely aura, and it kills

Its final wisp of white, to snuggle back within its bubble of dismay,

Awaiting 'nother morn that would so fleetingly transform its fading grey.

~•▪•~

An embrace of the walls.°

And a prey to the Sun.

A catalyst of thought.

An unlucky someone,

Who believes that his God

Will conceal every flaw

And is promptly betrayed

As the sky draws its veil;

Overnight, he gets over

his feelings of woe,

And is ready, come dawn,

to persist, and to hope.

~•▪•~

Tis he, a small, forsaken corner, far adown a garden green,▪

That daily braves the rise and fall of beauty, stuck in quarantine,

Of bush and brush, and stone and slush, and lakhs of dying twilit suns,

That vow to help him hide his scars; then let their promise come undone.

O forsaken corner! You're a mourner of demolished trust,

You ingest desertion; yet you feed my mental wanderlust,

And I'm enamored by the prospect of your thankless destiny,

And O forsaken corner, 'tis to you I give my company.

~•~•~•■•~•~•~

~•~•~•■•~•~•~

*The piece is by a mixture of poetic meters interspersed;
This foremost asterisk suggests a start to lines in near-free verse.

**A double asterisk, because I love the bookish vibe they bring,
For four more verses shall iambic octameter be a thing.

(And thrive within these footnotes, for I've always found it promising)

•And here you are again- I hate to see you scrolling back and forth,
But I'm to tell you that the previous pattern underwent a growth,
For four laborious lines, iambic nonamter will pervade,
And seldom shall I take the pains again to hear it serenade.

°A degree symbol, for the asterisks were getting cumbersome,
And never has a meter made me so frustrated and so glum,
The anapestic dimeter, is small and Herculean to use,
I hope my lines were close enough to what I've tried to reproduce.

▪Surprise! I thought my favorite meter should get much more than it got,
For eight concluding lines, Iambic Octameter takes the spot.

Penning these notes was not unlike penning a wholly different piece,
I thoroughly apologise if you are not aware of these,
And either way, I dearly pray, you found some joy in what you read,
With that concluding hope, I plug my phone to charge and head to bed.

~•■■■•~

A/N- I really know how to be vague, don't I? 😂
So, in case my floating descriptions were too abstract to understand, here's a blurb- this is a piece singing praises of a corner. Yeah, a concrete corner in a small garden close to my house. Every evening, that corner is lit up by the setting Sun, acquiring an attractive and homely lustre. As soon as night falls, it returns to its dilapidated appearance, betrayed by the god it trusted in. I have no idea why I chose this topic- or why I included the footnotes, for that matter. It's just that I wanted to keep record of the different meters I tried to use here. Plus I love footnotes that rhyme.

See you with another piece (and possibly another blurb) on Sunday. Cheers!