Humans are a disease

We can't escape this ceaseless cycle
The cycle that has been the assassin to human kind
To be more specific, our emotions, our minds, our hearts
We are the disease, the killer, to the body

We cant escape this ceaseless cycle
We bloom into beauteous flowers
But one day we start to wither
Slowly, slowly, slowly we start to wither
It's a trait that is passed down generation after generation

We envisage what we want to do, not what we are doing
We don't see what we need to bring to a conclusion
This never ending cycle, it is thanks to us humans