Programme

7:34
it was cold
artificial lights from street posts
and lust clubs
made this lonely night much more enticing
but sad

masked laughters and faces
chit-chats and cheap gossips
hanging in the corners of your dying eyes
lifts unsuccessfully
the spirit and hope of this dirt-poor alley

--within this hollow merriment and drunken smiles--
if only you could stop listening to yourself for a while
if only you could make your mind believe on the things you never knew existed
if only you could focus on the things that really matter
you maybe lucky enough to feel that
somewhere
someone will be swallowing tears
for dinner

It's one of those painful nights
where after a wasted day at work
everybody looks up and pray for consolations

for hope or for entertainment

everybody wants to see lovely diamonds
brandishing cosmic blinks while they burn
magically across their skies
lighting their corrupted streets
and hearts

that would make everyone subscribe
to the delusion
that it's theirs tonight
and theirs only

but there were no stars that night
everybody felt a bit more tired
it was automatic

All have depended on the starsfor their own energy
All have let the stars decide
whether they will be happy or sad

Now at the most hideous moment
not even prayers could possess
the power to save these people
from themselves

Just a step away from home
Within these emotional trolls
He was there
He hates to admit it
but He was one of the ordinary
and He is getting a little too sick
about this fact