The sun goes down and the vermin come out,
crawl in the darkened streets;
In the filth and slime of broken roads,
and the potholes filled with sleet.

Under shaded street-lamps,
in the gutters that run, along-side the road;
The rats and roaches fornicate,
with rabid, flesh-eating toads.

The blood-sucking moths that drain us all,
squirm behind the light;
While the vultures watch their slithy dance,
from the beyond the decaying sights.

And they suck us dry and tax our air
as we breathe these toxic fumes;
While we hide behind the voters badge,
dreaming of marble tombs.

Now the day has dawned and the vermin still crawl,
in the light as they did in the dark;
While we writhe in fear and loath our lives,
waste time praying for an arc; Which may never float.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar