It's a place where the cries of the agonised
Are drowned in the perfect harmony of artificial beauty.
It's a bedlam of emotions, selfish beyond doubt,
Devoid of love, except love for money,
Devoid of hope, except hope for success,
Devoid of philanthropy, except when it's for self-benefaction.
It's a place where relations are measured in numbers.
It's a mirage of perfectness, where reality is smothered by the ever evolving art of pretension.
Because beneath the perfectly chiseled face of the human race,
Lies the grotesque contorted form of a zombie.