Prisoned Road

From dusk to dawn, I was flooded with the dusty storm,

From jingles of horns to the talks of many borns,

I wonder I use to be talkie, Alas! now I keep mum,

In the era of 2021.

Running parallel through the cities, I stay silent,

The advent of the tiny virus has made me a barren island.

I shout I wait for the merry vibrance,

Hauling for my bail,

As I am the 'Prisoned Road' in Corona Jail.