The city which did not stop with rain, hail and storms,
Even remained uninhibited by the smouldering fireshots and bombs.
The city which resonated the meaning of being alive,
One which had a reputation of waking up post midnight.
One which kept on going, redefining the courses of tide,
Choosing to live to the fullest, maintaining its stride.
Oblivious to the situations, its spirit never died,
One with fortitude and resilience that exuded pride.
In a place so independent, where people were safe and carefree,
Came a man who usurped the city’s charge and took over as its chief.
An outlaw, a rogue, a conceited leader,
Ruled the land with unprecedented terror.
Masked his misdeed for the benefit of its citizens all,
Enforcing his beliefs for fifty springs and fifty fall.
Lost his life at the age of six and four score,
Due to ill-health and nothing more.
His men – the blind followers, demanded a shut down,
Declaring it apt as the city lost its God renowned.
Don’t know whether it was fear, respect or out of will,
But it was certainly the day when the ‘Maxima’ stood still!!!