Decay

This city is decaying;

Its rivers are dead.

Dead fish, chemical foam, and pungent smell are all that’s left.

This city is decaying;

Its skies are empty with no stars.

Smog, dust particles, and artificial light smothers my vision and breathe.

This city is decaying;

You and I are the fungi eating off it.

We walk past each other without ever smiling; while we complain to feel alone among a crowd.

We switch on lights and switch them off; while living in darkness without a doubt.

We were meant to live across open forests, hunting prey, and surviving from predators, we were to dance naked in the spring and make love to all.

But, you…

you made me this city to live in.

You contained me in a few symmetrical rooms and gave me petty materials to desire upon.

You organized everything, you gave me a name, my street a name, even these concrete walls its designated number.

You define happiness for me, and of course, you sell me that definition too.

You put me in this decaying city;

Oh, this agony.

I don’t want to be civilized, let me be.

Let me cry when I am in sorrow and let me laugh at whatever I find funny!

Let me feel as ordinary as the underclass you conceal.

You commercialize my dreams, my insecurities,

and make me trade pieces of paper with an imaginary value attached to it.

Who are you?

Definitely not God.

Cause you sell him too so we can always have someone to blame.

In this city we don’t worship God anyway, we only worship ourselves.

This city is decaying,

save me from it.

On one side of the street poor women and children roam around with rotting wounds over their bodies while being escorted by flies.

Men selling cheap objects through desperate yells of discounts, if the sight of this street doesn’t please you then just turn around,

As tall, glittering structures lay on the other side of this street.

Where sadness and despair doesn’t seem to reach.

This contrast is not progress but the hollow reality of this slowly decaying city.

So that the rich could throw more than they eat So that the rich could live in their villas and wear a fashionable dress; the poor has to often sleep hungry, naked and homeless.

We are all in pursuit of comforting ourselves in this uncomfortable place; it seems like an important race, oh but its an utter disgrace of how easy our consiousness is to manipulate.

A decade of watching entertaining motion films, those tabloid news articles that you love to read and creative advertisements trying to sell you things that you don’t need; that’s all it took for us to be stuck in this monotonous loop.

Oh! Such chaos is yet we all act so calmly.

Oh, this city is decaying and we are the fungus eating off it.

It shall be unpleasant for long now and if only there was something we can do about it.