Curtains drawn,
Drowning in a sea
Of crumpled sheets.

Ruffled feathers,
Half empty cups
Of lukewarm Tea.

Windows shut,
Mind open.
No creaks in
The glass,
No creases on
Sheets of paper.

Sitting in a world,
Cut from another.
Sleeping on wonders,
Breathing life into others.

Painting a sky green,
Colouring the land
In shades of charcoal-
There are no walls
In a universe of

Climbing ladders,
Corporating in a
Reality of cement.
Concrete in its
Firm in its

Living on the edge-
Pushing off the cliff.

A speck,
in an array of Colours.
A pebble,
On a road to nowhere.

Calloused hands,
scabs on feet-
“It’s the high life, baby.
It’s the glory of the

No pages to turn,
No sheets to make.
The haven overthrown
With the need to function.

Chasing stars
In a sky clogged with
Its own missiles.
Running havoc
In a world busy with
Its own inertia.

We’re cityhunters,
Shooting down
Dreams as we go.

When dusk falls,
So does the pretence.
Swimming in an ocean red,
Climbing vines running down
Clouds of haze.

Lost in life,
Lost in dreams-
Battles were wagged.
Life fell in love with
Your dreams,
And there was nothing left to say.

Maybe the skies
Will clear to
~Simran Khurana 


12 thoughts on “Cityhunters

  1. Wow… That was simply breath-taking. So this is RAW TALENT people talk about. I’m just glad i got to witness it before the world. Kudos to the poet, may the universe seem infinitesimal compared to your upcoming success.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You are always ahead than the rest of your generation. There is a certain aura in your writings that is going to create wonders in the field of literature. Stick to writing, no matter what you do or whatever you choose to become. Words become magic when it comes from you and the world needs some magic now, more than ever so don’t let your keyboard away. Happy writing!

    Liked by 1 person

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