A dark view from the rooftop
strips the world
naked,
Released is the truth
from the layer of
pretense,
Entertained are the fools
with the various
facets of it,
Frisked are the accused
suspected of misdemeanor,
Caused by pleasures born in guilt.
The world is a fireball,
Spreading smoke outside the houses
Of those with nicotine stains on their fingers.
The world is a whiny child,
Demanding irrationally from those
Consumed in flames of
desire and lust.
The world is a tool of sorts,
Deconstructing models of life
But fixing them to no avail.
The world is a
parasite,
Feeding onto the lives of those,
Who sulk in monotony and bask in glory.
The world wears a different mask
for a different eye in this city,
Shines through when a million lights
Are drawn at its monumental history,
Reeks about when shit-stained streets
Meet at the corner of the slum,
In the irreconcilable city of Delhi
Where one pulls the string
And the other beats the drum.
