Recollections of an evening

Blue is a color of evening air
Blue is the color of shame
Blue is a color of poisoned throat
Blue was the color all the same.

The figures of eternal peace,
fixed to the ground and aiming high
Continuous and throbbing with evening’s rhythm
the dying down silence.
The omnipresent reverberations,
the dilapidating eyes-
eyes which transformed from blue to red
and the gaseous outstretched arms.

and the gaseous outstretched arms –
that slipped to face the sky:
to face the maniac on the street
to etch out a passage
to an indicative star.

As thousand maniacs on the street
Hammered the wonder wall
Hammered the partitioning demon
To merge the west and east
To play around with history
Of one’s slipping self.

to he slipping self’s despair
the wall was but a dream
an insignificant etching
of smoke and concrete
of transforming eyes-
of silent shapes of peace.

And as gaseous outstretched arms
swam through the talkative streets
the wonder wall survived
but the evening was a shape of peace.