Nasdravi Station.

When you step out from the train in Prague and go along the lengthy platform which leads you onto the open space of an old Stalin like interior called Nasdravi station; its as though you have stepped back in time some 30 years or more. You feel startled and taken back by the moment, as if something is pulling you back. You pass that maze fast,hoping you find your way, without stumbling into something unexpected or dangerous for that matter. Arriving at dark does not make it more easy and only the tainted light that hovers lightly from the main portal, seems to give some respite and warmth to a tired and lost traveler. Prague is unfair. She grabs you in illusion and spits you out as soon as she tires of your being there; Like a jealous lover; She will always find more to pray upon, more to devour and spit out when she tires, and on and on she goes, like spider caught in its own web; And she will entice and break you down. I have seen this in the faces of the passerby's as they walked pass me with glazed expressions, something eating their hearts away; or looking for A lost treasure which was never there, and if it was was now long lost; And yet here we were still looking, still searching in those lost and ancient corners, where only the touch of poets could linger there,if only for a moment, and the moment is gone. The moment is gone forever.