In the heart of the city,
lies an intersection road on the path of life,
where the seas of soul waves away in a vague,
fashion-filled colours of their mask hides their intentions.
The crowds sway in their pattern motion,
that is set by the laws of the Babylonian system.
Truth is obscured. Lies are Laws.
Though remain those who are rebellious to these rules,
but without a proper cause or understanding they are labelled punks.
A child with big innocent eyes,
plays on the streets,
Part of the rats and trash of society,
blinded by the sight of commercialized advertisements these souls were,
A child lost in plain sight,
No she is not to blame, neither is the parents,
who are struggling to provide for her.
It is us who should be blame.
We created this habitat for this innocence.
And it is us who released these young souls to mingle with the animals of the urban jungle.
Concrete is the ground,
A thick layer of separation from mother earth,
have left these men in their own reality of a world.
Man-made for man.
Controlled and lost to the subliminal messages of the tantalizing and seducing powers,
where the media are often projecting happiness as a bucks-worthy.
We are to blame.
We are ignorant of mother earth and lost touch of our true self.
We allowed our voices drown in lies.
We allowed a fake comfort to rule our life.
We were nothing more than animals.
Now we are the Beast of Apocalypse.
We are our own worse enemy.
With our hands shall craft the doom of mankind.