Lassies so svelte,
Lads so suave,
It’s blithe of the youth,
Walking valiantly on every pave.

Is it an attitude devil-may-care
That crops in the mind as a craze?
Or shall I call this a different air
An apparent fashion age?

Living insouciantly with elan,
Life becomes nookless,
Endowing the curves a seraphic countenance,
The beauty becomes immensely brookless.

The redolence of serenity,
The perpetual untrammelled extremity,
Oh, is it the life’s nitty-gritty,
That forces me to call it a fashion deity.

The mettle to become peerless,
Which makes the mind material,
Generating the triumphant magnates,
Living life such imperial.

Where the thoughtfulness dissolves,
In an ocean of wherewithal,
And for one’s own selfish motives,
The so-called socialists wield the sickle.

Where the generosity is Quixotic,
And impassiveness becomes flair,
Is it an era of people
Who live in misanthropic lair?

Are the peasants in the country?
Or the recluses shunning the throng?
Is the painter depicting The Nature?
Or the musician composing a song?

Perhaps the religions preaching morality,
Or the nations making boundaries,
May be the profundity in the relationships,
Or the thirst of the ultimate peace.

May be Science or Art,
May be Spiritual or mundane,
There are different colours of the Rainbow
Which form the Fashion-Train