In the world where i live
I walk under destroyed streets;
the air that i breath
enters in my lungs as razors,
and the gray color of death everywhere
makes my eyes shed tears
Then I ask myself: why?
The night sentries watch us;
for how long time will we exist?
We're opressed by those who govern
and our desperate screams were sultry
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Why doesn't the Sun Illuminate us anymore?
Why doesn't the ground feed us anymore?