Today is yet another day, when all was there, when there was all.
A time when no one fought to live.
When everyone yet thought to give.
Yet times go by when war is near,
and all is soar from fighting this war, which without a point came to be.
For there will never be an end to wanting, for people are taunting those who do not want them to be.
A blast of anger through the night,
a thought of dying in a fight.
People die for the rich to get richer, for the poor are falling quicker and the war is getting bigger.
For years to come the poor shall fall, for in the end, when end is near.
The final ones die for the thought to succeed, never for the thought to fight a war for a point that is deceived.
Remembered are those who are dead, to forever keep the poor from knowing. Yet the rich never stop the poor from growing to fight the wars without a point.
