I know of a land where young ones are corrupt,
Where the butterflies attempt to fly with broken wings,
But die in the process.
An outcast is just a ghoul in hiding.
Every loving word slurred never meant a thing.
The scars are always visible.
In this land it is always below zero.
Each day everyone knows that tomorrow will be the same,
Here lies no hope.
The soil covering the surface is poisoned.
Sometimes tongues are chopped off.
Slowly they all lose their mind.
The eldest ones are locked away to be hidden in the dark.
So many broken hearts, they cannot even be counted.
Memories are shunned with pills,
And obscure buildings that cause blood shot eyes and controlled minds.
The people will resort to harm and other vile ways to find,
The peace that their soul needs.
But because there is no such thing blood is shed,
Along with tears and countless body limbs.
These poor souls,
But there is not an ounce of sympathy.
This land gets worse with each day.
Some even have to pay,
To get the love that their soul craves.
How pathetic is this, they yearn for it so bad.
There is so much more,
That could be said about this hell that we are forced to live on...