Protocol

The night is starry like heaven

A hibiscus flower upfront

The city is painted red

The crimson is tantalizing

My hands up on the mirror

It sends a signal off

To be in God’s arms with happiness

Pluralism over this city

Protest of feminists and prototype

My verge is on the Bloomsbury gate

The gaze is on the death

Of rebirthing  vocals of masquerade

Martyrdom of heavenly speech

They take your breaths away

Till you pass on the hellfire

To public transport and health issues

The protocol is current

It sends off the heavenly bodies.