Rainbow City

What do you do to a place? What does a place do to you? Humankind constantly thirsts for progress and security The first, because we trust technology The second, because we don't trust each other.

In 1500 BC, a group of nomadic warriors scaled the Kyber Pass in a zeal to conquer Beckoned by the placid Hindukush mountains, they decided never to leave this rainbow city.

I know of a king who live 350 years ago He manifested the greatest monument his kind would ever see Unlearned, unshaken by truth or philanthropy He chose to be a connoisseur of the arts And a callous decapitator of the people who created them History told his story well, the legacy he left behind In the form of a city that bears his name Is bow-and-arrow shaped, to ensure prosperity.

There's a fort built in shades of red At the center of this rainbow city. Perched on 7 hilltops and dominated by Gothic churches This city was not built in a day Neither was its classism A hierarchy of markets and lavish warehouses For those who could afford it Yet, we remember it as a rainbow city For its street systems, housing, economy, forums Not its concept of inclusion, or lack thereof.

There are rainbow cities that embellished their temples With the rarest of precious stones to commemorate the most flawed legion of Gods A god of lightning presenting a box of evil as a gift to a girl with no restraint Provides a reason for all the suffering and economic crises found here till today There are cities that felled the Berlin Wall And cities that wish to resurrect one to keep immigrants at bay A juvenile bully for president, and a battle for equality Cities with narrow winding streets can be traced all the way down the road

For man needs to defend his domain Courtyards looking inwards equipped with no windows Because some cities pride their conservative behaviour There are rainbow cities trapped and rainbow cities freed Smart cities, sustainable cities, a whole utopian's creed We wish to travel the world in search of rainbow cities Once surmounted by ghosts of our own kind, and ruin them No king is glorified until we twist his tale to befit a God No worship so pure until we grant incentive No city so rain-bowed that it won't eventually bow down To a flash of gunfire, and we're gone in a spark

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