What futility is this voluminously piling and piling.
Each day`s breath befallen by ruminativeness
Denouncing sacred cows,reflecting this glassy mirage
Amongst other aspects.Time`s proud gift paradoxically
To languish nor rust in stagnation,but thriving,stoical,
Brine tears of longing are off no help.
What transient pleasure rattles them with ease
Of laborious cass stubborn in duty slacking not.
Fancy clad of expensive nature ails their pockets;
Loud mouths roars the street commuting,
Frivolous with splendour the ceremony be then midnight
All the formality is lost:prancing heavily in dance floors.
Soon time be itself with nerve-wreckness of a dying year
All pleasure`s lost counting the cost;normal duty resumes.
Which desperate breaths with surlied light that`ve succumbed
To temptations forsaking their armour-guard of morality.
Discreetly,with twilight at might trampling solitary yearning
Upon those brimm`d passages with an abundance of toilets.
Pleasure attained then a beating conscience cries to ignorant knowledge:
Of advocating the exploitation,degrading their worth,
Corrupting o`r booming city and defying all biblical teachings.
Where upon the vast night are the dark shadows concealed.
Conspiring with haste their unsavoury mandates with such accuracy.
Vulnerable our market area is then a blast-haste packing-
Squealing tyres it`s over in split second.Our sleepy force
Tramples on their duty leaving a migraine on the populace
Struggling to make ends meet now compromised in meandering queues.
