See the sunken face of nature,
Hear her shrieking, fraught with woe,
At the city's neon hubris,
Giving off its chilling glow.
See the formless mass of people,
Hear the spinning potter's wheel,
Watch the shape of people changing,
As ideas become real.
See them dancing a quick tango,
Hear them whispering sweet lies,
Wearing masks upon their faces,
Wearing mirrors in their eyes
Living life just for survival, and
Pursuit of mindless pleasure,
While amassing status symbols,
Has become the one true measure, of
A culture whose existence,
Works toward its own demise,
Climbing down a burning ladder,
Numb to touch, and deaf to cries.
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
See the sunken face of nature,
Hear her shrieking, fraught with woe,
At the city's neon hubris,
Giving off its chilling glow.
See the formless mass of people,
Hear the spinning potter's wheel,
Watch the shape of people changing,
As ideas become real.
See them dancing a quick tango,
Hear them whispering sweet lies,
Wearing masks upon their faces,
Wearing mirrors in their eyes
Living life just for survival, and
Pursuit of mindless pleasure,
While amassing status symbols,
Has become the one true measure, of
A culture whose existence,
Works toward its own demise,
Climbing down a burning ladder,
Numb to touch, and deaf to cries.
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