The City and the Truth

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
Does the city truly depict what it shows? Or it has been given an outrageous outlook to the dwellers that they forgot to even know the truth...they have been used to and habituated in this mesh of the social confusions and contradictions. They forgot to open their mouth and speak a word...they accept and move with the flow of the vanity.

Submitted: January 24, 2012

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Submitted: January 24, 2012




The City takes the look of the Queen,

Gorgeous, glamorous and all ready to set,

The street lights lit, along the glossy hoardings,

Dusk and doom just about to meet,

The vanity of beauty mesmerises the beholder

The hard rock music is full on,

And the tinkles of the wine glasses,

Enhance the mood of the party to beckon.

The streets and roads merge to the highway,

Sybarite cars adore them,

The footpaths engulf the poverty planet,

With full of infamous nomadic names.

Who cares? The city is still happy,

With its network of social germs,

Eagles, hawks and kites around,

Scavengers clasping firm.

The body sellers roaming to sell pleasure

The soul sellers mask their face,

Paper notes being so important,

Tears and hearts, worthless.

The congeniality of the society

Nods to Big, confirms to Huge,

The more you give, more you live,

Leave your heart and hearth profuse.

The city dwells macabre way,

Amidst the priceless price,

Agony of leisure, sorrow and tears,

Weeps and sinks and dries.

The sulk Queen remotes its heart

The udder harrowing suffer

The miser microbe crawls inside

Midgets growing buffer.

Is this what the society we call?

Breaking the normal norms,

Complicated by the pretenders,

The art of living, life and forms.

She is used, raped and sucked,

She is used to deface,

Confirming deferral of an era,

And deficiency of her grace.

The vandal horrifies torture,

The city is at his captive,

Leashed her beauty and admiration,

Paralysed, handicapped and inactive.

Who will ponder over all these thoughts?

Who will stop for a moment?

The sunrise washes all every dawn,

With a ray of hope as in agreement.

The sky stretches, beneath --- the river flows by,

Purest and holiest of all,

And drowns a lifeless corpse,

Does that feel us fall?

© Copyright 2017 Shadows of Memories. All rights reserved.

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