Sometimes I cry
and yet my soul has forgotten why.
when the world is a cesspit
what evil ones make of it
Humanities hope dies
sealed in golden lies
beaten, broken, forsaken,
lost, all hope taken.
why is it then that we find
all we left behind
when the world is cold and dank
and even the cleanest corner rank?
why must we rush to captivity
headlong into opressions turmult sea?
after darkest turn is there light?
Yet how could it fight the darkness' might?
Even wind steals a baby's sigh
and yet the child never questions why.
While hunting the monster, lost our star
became the hunted, forgot who we are.