Tree branches are scattered, the green leaves are trampled
Gone is the future- which we all have been seeking
Our fruitful treasures have been lottery gambled
Minds are not thinking, we are silent, not speaking
This is the last phase, of our most tragic destruction
Poets have spoken for long, not really being heard
Eternal life being seen as another boggling assumption
Humans never paying attention, to every single word
Whispers of the strong wind, in the light of the day
Railing for the scattering of ignorant minds
Not pleading with anyone, nor paving the way
Some tearful crack of bones, the crunch breaking of spines
Trust never meant anything, to our livelihood
Until our graves open up, Oh shall we die obscured