Celebrations will occur today,
With firecrackers and partying
on happy islands on the west coast,
Noise huge, colours bright
will try to subdue something.
Something which plagues the east,
The hush and fury in the dark,
Arrowed upon poorly quantified humanity,
Died where even the little traces of quality and
dignity,
And celebrations will take place in the west.
Those drunken dances and rockets flying,
The rich garbage of celebration scattered around,
Myriads swaying upon the boozed beaches,
With joy, sensuousness and laughter,
While deadly claws put a print on the sand in the east.
The east spread out like an orphan,
The forlorn beaches, where swept out
were the labouring footprints of masses,
The night where howls around
the decaying uncremated remains.
And unmindful and uncaring
they will celebrate the night whole,
For new dawn, millennium new,
Hope has died meanwhile
somewhere with the millennium gone.
Such is the case with humans,
Segmented society for roles,
The lucky ones with a lamp
to welcome the change great,
Others carried on bier in the dark.
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