There is a land out there,
Where people live in harmony,
No trace of blossoms' grace,
The gardens have been burnt with cupidity.
Birds sing melancholy
Yet people live in harmony.
There is a land out there,
Where poetry is no longer a flame,
Yet writing is for fame.
True poets have been murdered,
Art, a sacrifice to the company of money,
Yet people live in harmony.
There is a land out there,
Where no letter penned with blood is found,
True love is a sinful act, an insipid bound
Promises are but echoes, hollow and cold,
Authenticity, merely an act, a childish play,
Honesty and loyalty are no longer found in the dictionary,
Yet people live in harmony.
There is a land out there,
Once beautiful and stunning,
Now forsaken by beauty.
A land where humans lurk around,
Crushing dreams while mistrust unfolds,
And why...? How can all of you,
Amidst all this madness...
Oh God, how can they live in harmony?
Or is it just that I hate living in this meaningless symphony?
YOU ARE READING
Symphony of hell
PoetryAbout a world that once brimmed with beauty, art, and love but has since fallen victim to the ravages of greed, materialism, and betrayal. Here a person quite ordinary writting something absurd .
