A monochromatic gloom envelopes the night of an idle town
Whilst, the people remain unconscious on this deceptive verity.
Isn't anyone alarmed about the forlorn that surrounds?
Perhaps, no one dares to inspect its perfect illusion.

The town governs with ardent perturbation and perplexity
With the regressive taxation, Gehenna reigns overall still.
Had one done enough, it continued hitherto.
Such a waste exhaustion in the plague's eye of temerity.

Turmoil is an eternal damnation; a life obliteration!
Ere is not in any alike. How come it has become?
Hardly, no person with a typical savoir-faire could learn its commencement.
Until tomorrow hops up to shower her ambrosial light.
However, when?

Dawn is about to rule in this exact coordinates in hours away
My state is being held up notwithstanding to the ridicule
Aid is where when the illusion daunts, suffocates, and drowns forward.
Could I expect thy glamour only to retreat me?
If not later, when?