Hypocrisy haunts everyone day in and day out,
Though everyone is a hypocrite.
Lifeless bodies walk with sparkling dresses.
The beautiful eyes are cold blocks of ice.
To repel stench, different scents are rubbed on the skin to produce a long-lasting smell.
Wolves have donned the sheep’s coats to camouflage everything.
Lyrics talk of freedom while genocide is going in a holy land.
On the pulpits, mercy is invoked while close to the House of God, corruption is laughing in mirth.
Streets are washed to look clean while the blood of the innocents is mixed with the coal tar.
Graveyards are decorated to commemorate the buds whose bodies were decimated by the lions.
Candles are lit on the graves of the martyrs,
But the martyrs need no worldly light to brighten up their world.
Books speak the eternal truth, morality and righteousness,
But actions are all about violence, immaturity and cheating.
Dawn was expected to remove darkness from our lives,
But dusk and dawn have become friends to loot us.
Rivers are expected to sing melodies but the continuous violence has made them dumb and numb.
They reluctantly flow at a snail’s pace to let the observers know they are alive.
Nests are on surveillance, vultures shed tears while the echoes of freedom reverberate everywhere.
The fledglings tiptoe into their ruined abodes to remain below the radar.
In this paradoxical atmosphere, life is hard while death is common.
