RUNNER

Bengaluru breeze, still thick with sleep,
My Nikes whisper on the silent street.
Hair whips back, a wild perfume,
Eucalyptus wraps the morning gloom.
Lungs like bellows, pistons strong,
Each inhale a victory song.
Sunlight cracks, a golden thread,
Paints the buildings fiery red.
Sweat beads dance, a salty sheen,
A symphony for Shweta, the running queen.
Coffee stalls awaken slow,
But my heart's already on the go.
Muscles burn, a sweet, sharp sting,
But the city's rhythm makes my spirit sing.
Stray dogs bark, a morning cheer,
As I chase the light, casting off all fear.
This concrete jungle, my concrete track,
Where dreams pound the pavement, never looking back.
This is my city, my morning prayer,
The Bengaluru air, crisp and rare.
-SHWETA  MAURYA