Still.

ILLUSIONS of the ARCHITECT'S MIND

He looks through his window, upon the city.. …
At the clutter in the street, from his safe retreat …
He races to his board, he starts afresh …
To realize his dream, in his eyes a gleam …
His lines are bold, the strokes are heavy …
With passion in his heart, he practices his art …
He dances with joy, in his desire he forgets …
That men live still, where he drew boulevards …

Shashank Singal