Behind the mask of the neon glare,

The soul of the city, lays down bare.

Jungles of concrete, where dreams are sold.

But in their pursuit, the innocence grows cold.

Above the ‘lively’ glow, where skyscrapers end,

Stars from the universe, begin to transcend.

Beyond the busy city, where dreams may fray,

Lies a celestial heaven, where constellations play.

Dazzling billboard which paints a facade of glee,

The smile of displays, a deceptive sheen.

Pollution hangs heavy in the unsufferable air,

A city’s beauty being tainted beyond repair.

Distinctive from neon, the stars are vivid and bright,

They twinkle in silence, casting their own light.

Compared to the bustling lights, where dreams ‘ascend’,

The radiance of the stars eclipse the city’s vibrant blend.