The Annual Act of Aestheticism

Count the seconds that pass by

Without any sound or sparkle.

When the smoke doesn't mingle with the fog,

And inhaling isn't agonising!

One, two, and we go bang- boom, 

Spinning our wheel of doom!

We cook our nades,

We let our bayblades rip,

We construct a flaming fountain, 

And the scared ones spin their fiery wands. 

Now, how many seconds passed in silence?

Not many, and hence the preaching has failed.

The sounds only get intensifying,

Bullying the loved ones,

Whom we have abandoned for the extravaganza!

The sounds will soon be gone,

The stale air will soon recover,

And we will go back to our normal lives-

Reading about the problems of pollution,

And be concerned about the future, 

We will also critique the guilty,

But will never discover the criminal!