Above the chaos and the dusty street,
Where the iron tracks and the skyline meet.
A silver arrow through the city's heart,
A modern wonder, a work of art.
The sliding doors with a gentle hum,
To tell the city that the future has come.
No more the honking or the heat of the road,
As the "Red and Green" carries its heavy load.
From Uttara's breeze to Motijheel's height,
It cuts through the day like a beam of light.
Through the glass windows, the city looks new,
Under the arch of the morning dew.
The digital screen and the cool, breezy air,
A moment of peace in a life of care.
Students and workers, all side by side,
Enjoying the rhythm of a smoother ride.
Over the flyovers, over the crowd,
The nation is smiling, the people are proud.
A dream once written on a paper of white,
Now racing through Dhaka with electric might.
It's the pulse of the people, the speed of the day,
Chasing the shadows of the traffic away.
A journey of minutes, a leap for the land,
Built by the strength of a visionary hand.