Upon whose influence do you import those ideas?
Without even communing with the necessary voices
Roam the streets; the ones deserted by fashionable ideas
Where there is penury, but traces of honesty too
Moist eyes know, the grubby hands won’t be filled with wealth
Mornings are mourned amidst the hunger pangs
In contrast, dumb streets are lit up with offensive affluence
Lazy morning, rather luxurious and nights of revelry
Who consented to this disparity?
Even the hollow dreams are being sold- aggressively, without consent
Coerced to buy, but their returns are a pittance
Someone composes the philosophical dirge
Death of consciousness and intentional erosion of intellect
Don’t we witness the scenes of avarice and double-dealing?
All those imported ideas to defeat joys, hope, dreams
Holding on to weak powers of constant hate and rage
Eventually, none of the streets would be spared of rebellion
Swanky or tyrannised streets shall meet at a confluence
Of human outrage, once the masks of imported ideas fall off
The dark glasses won’t filter the pathetic behaviour