feeling follicles of fragments shattered;
in the inland they are plastered- iron walls of deadly diseases
destroying families overseas.
for it is fiction-
a flop of an era
not a disease but barricades of beastly people they call \"citizens\".
we wait in fear, for war awaits
like loneliness occurs, a criminal is made.
this is not my country,
the country I know of crimson king and cotton candy.
tis\' a country of despair and disaster of a dooming society.