As Notre Dame burns and Paris mourns, I couldn’t sit still. Neither could I watch and let it go nor could I sleep. So, I resorted to paint the beauty on fire and write. For, if there’s one thing that the city has taught us, it is to live in art and literature.
For Paris is the thing that heals, that resurrects you. Even at the cost of burning itself.
I hope this time it gets the time to heal.
Here’s my bid to you. My tribute.
A spendthrift night toils hour by hour.
A time that spells of a kingdom of doom,
Where the gargoyles chime one by one.
First, they rhyme then they cry,
For a crime has unfolded in the dome.
A rage of decent,
An agony of the crescent,
The air goes wild with the melody of dissent.
The spire fumes and the bell towers wonder,
Of a place that’s no longer.
As they pass one by one,
The colours assimilate giving a hope,
For hunchback of Notre Dame takes recluse,
In a chasm of “Au Revoir”.
To all Parisians…
Hope you all heal…let the fire of agony burn the canvas. Let us be a Paris tomorrow.
Today, tomorrow, yesterday …. every day. …….