(September 2007)
The city blazes brilliant in its
luxury
But every dweller in it is inflicted
by an injury
For the grandeur and the flimsy hide
Could not cover away the deep pain
and scar
When every breathing soul licking its way
Crawling ,blinded and mould by the
note, like clay
Underneath the superfluous couture
with elaborate folds
Is but a cold, hard, decayed and
hollow soul
Where the few noble feelings bestowed
us, is mistaken
And seen as weaknesses and wanting of
the mirage haven
The pompous regal cast
Is but just the bounty thriving of
the filth and the worms inside of it
The deeper one runs into this glossed
woeful mire
The more stark one comes in terms
with the abominable satire
For one has to live with the other
face of one’s appearance
Bartering precious reason to a
society of masquerade
Where to be a member, one swallows
one’s conscientious identity with eyes wide open
Many a men look so themselves, for
who they truly are not
Where insanity is but the akin of
reason
And true sanity is being insane in
their eyes
But don’t you give in, child..!
For one day, outshine you will, this
vile, fake glare
In the end, nothing but that what
presented you insane
Will prove wrong will prove wrong
their whole sanity
And brings to light, their inanity.
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