Its when the city sleeps...
The poets wonder and lovers await.
Its when the moon floats above gently,
Amidst the layers of the starry nightsky,
Hiding behind the dark pillows sometimes,
Sometimes, peeping late flaunting its ivory.
Its when the asteriks remould, swirl and twinkle,
Expressing tinge of happines, ecstasy and joy.
Its when the breeze flows smooth like honey,
Chanting a mute happy song for long.
Its when the city sleeps...
The poets wonder and lovers await...