Tokyo, City of Light and Shadow
Through alleys tight where silence drums.
Glass giants gleam in dawn’s first hour,
And rising red, the Tokyo Tower—
A needle threading sky and time,
Above the shrines, below the climb.
A thousand souls in Shibuya sway,
In catwalk dreams of everyday.
From plaid to pleats, from goth to gloss,
Each look a rule, each glance a loss.
They bloom like sakura in motion,
Ephemeral, fierce with quiet devotion.
Ramen steam curls into prayer,
As temple bells divide the air.
Kimonos stir in midnight breeze,
Where neon signs float like disease.
The old gods whisper through the wires,
Their chants now pulse through phone and fire.
Mount Fuji looms, aloof and still,
A phantom framed on windowsills.
While vending lights in quiet rows
Bleed softest hues where no one goes.
And silver trains with silent grace
Rewrite the map of time and space.
In subway cars, a sacred hush—
No need for words, no need to rush.
Here love is found in half a glance,
In mirrored doors and fleeting chance.
A bow exchanged, a space made wide—
A city’s heart, both shield and guide.
Tokyo dreams with sleepless eyes,
A city born from ash and rise.
Where past and future intertwine,
In lantern glow and skyline sign.
Each corner hums with untold lore—
Of beauty, silence, style, and war.
— Meenakshi Singh
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