Beyond the city lights
A red building, ambience lighted,
Inhabited by people, yet fully vacant.
The jingling bangles laugh and haunt;
Smirk miserably, often release a sigh,
Their ringing have a melancholic taunt,
Deafs confuse it to be "visit again, bye"
The tresspassers there are varied men,
Some new faces, some people old,
For it is a place where souls are sold.
These buildings cage beautiful birds,
Human slaves in century twenty-first,
It's a building that's engaged in a trade,
Where from innocent girls, whores are made.
This is all that the ole guard man said.