Tell me a story
of planes in the sky,
of ships on sail,
of dreamers at night.
Tell me the fables
which were left aloof,
with no one to hear of the monkey king
About whom once old kabadi told.
I wish I could sit under this banyan tree.
listen to the hymns of sparrows.
Seemimgly on a mission,
to escape from the evil one eyed, pirate.
And be the referee to the match
which conspired between the snake merchant,
and the little poor mongoos.
I wish to be told of the virtues and myths,
which my world,
so solemnly basks in glory of.
I wish to experience the fall,
the plunge of baghdad sandstorms.
The dying misery of stuck travelers,
and the joys of,
finding a misled oasis.
So tell me a story,
of merchants and kings,
of soldiers and seductresses,
of rich and of miserly.
tell me the tales,
of my city.
Because I don’t know, if I can ever see any.
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