Shooting for the moon

Its been a long time that I have seen stars in the sky,

This thick grey cloud clogging up the city nighttime,

Hiding so cruelly all the precious diamonds in the sky.

Or is it that the cloud is in our minds, fogging brains?

Of materialism, of egos, of cunning, of always wanting more.

A disease permeates our generation—shooting for the moon.

And shoot some people who stand in your way too.

Where friendship is obsolete, its all professional here.

Black coats, black trousers and blacker hearts.

Its been a long time since I saw the sun set over the Ganges

But I still see corpses floating down everyday.

Only this time, its not just decomposed dead bodies.

It is the stench of decaying decadent souls.