The Bell that tolls

A multitude of shooting stars,
Befalling on a placid harbour
In an alien land,
Render the brave hearts
Into sitting ducks
That leaves me in knee-deep tears.

A lonesome jasmine
Spilling out
From a sultry landscape,
Soaked by early monsoon
Drives me crazy
For the scent
Of the curly tresses
Sprouted on her nape.

With a wink-less gaze
I look for the Northern Star
In the midst of a multitude
That shall guide me
From the wilderness
To a safe shore.

The bell that tolls intermittently
Atop the dome,
Echoing through the
Cobwebbed corridors of my being,
Drags me to the doorstep
Of the city cathedral.