The world is dead, the light is gone,
There are no bread, the nights long.
From dawn till dusk, they must,
Follow the ticking of sinful lust,
And ignore the filtered war,
Between the few, who own the many.
The world at storm.
The poor but spent.
In confinement.
With little next to warn.
Unlike death, we live betrayed,
With one breath, my heart is spayed,
As we finally fall to answer locking doors.
And nowhere else in time implored