City of dead


This is a city of dead
The buildings yawn here
Opening their mouths wide to eat their next prey
A dreamer with bag of hopes on his shoulder
Here the roads move ahead like a snake
Crawling their ways into oblivion
Have you ever seen roads losing their directions?
Until the dreamer stands on it
And asks for a lift
The chimneys from homes
Puff out the smoke of burning desires
As a woman in her kitchen cries
When the salt in her food gets less
This is a city of dead
Here the traffic is high
To get on the feet and move ahead
As the light shows yellow with red
They wait and move before they move and wait
This cycle goes on
Until a bicycle rider blows horn
And creates his own way out of the life
Carrying those cans of milk
And hope to have a fruitful day perhaps
The buses go full with people hanging
Like hens filled in a jeep
Going to be butchered
For someone out their like meat
More than living
Here the shopkeeper starts his day with "om"
Until he realises the gods don't wake up so early
And yet another prayer of his goes into a waiting list
Which never is reread again
For people in temples offer more money
Than a poor man can ever afford to
This is a city of dead
The schools are big monsters
Feeding on the blood of children
Until they turn into big fat machines of money making
Each day a dreamer dies
As a child carries heavy bags of same old textbooks
And crushed ideas by a teacher
For some things like freedom of thinking
Were not written in a textbook
This is a city of mirrors
Every reflection wants to eat another one
People become predators
As the "too special" and "unique" sells in the markets
For being ordinary is out of style now
People duplicate themselves like clones of the likable person
And here you see the famous faces
Walking all over the land
Too special
Too unique
This is a city of dead
When the night dies
The sun open its arms
Eats the moon
Burps out mornings
With the fire of emotions
Lighting up the sky
Crimson
For some dreams were blood stains dried
Some dreams were years lost in a day
This is a city of dead
And living is a rebellion here

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