I, Witness
Stoic are the eyes, as a city slowly dies;
Ignorant to the futility, even as it tries.
Though pangs of hunger, echo to the soul;
No longer the prey, for now a heart as black as coal.
And with each new sun, risen by the east;
Tasting the transformation, from a man to a beast.
Sadness is a dream, that was long ago once felt;
Now value has subsided, as if a well worn pelt.
Dwelling in the shadows, earnestly surveying the land;
Silently praying, for the tears that will wash the blood from his hands
We as a people, should take better care of [our] civilization; what do you think is going to happen should those that we thought we had cast aside....survive?
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