When the cloudies besiege the whole skies
With Darknesses like Camelot in the night
No man saves from hands of ogries
Even a Foetus who never knows the kite

Everywhere decorates with broken calabashes
To which no leaves on the land to crunch through
As the earth breaths with weaken tiny lunges
With all areas shake thunderlikely in brew

The heaven seems not pity anyone
As seems defiating and silencing in thorough
Even the saint man suffers more than Malone
Who mutates man with his protruding teeth with broth

The help is no where to be found,even the safety hampers
everyman now like hens that can announce its death with knife
What is this life again,nothing at all but ember
A spit is the result of disgusting,oooops! The life

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A good nation makes a good citizens and an urbaned world makes a good nature residents

View truedreams's Full Portfolio