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Scorn is overtaking the ruins it destroyed

Flies have gathehered on decay

Feasting on the corpse and despair from the farewell

Like rotten flesh the world turns grey

Moments of desperation have themselves locked up in a cage

Surrounded by constant rain without any possibility of escape

Between the ghastly figures it has made

Feeling the gripping and scratching of the cold dying hands

Trapped for years like this it turned on itself

Apologies like colonies fly out to break the glass

After years of being in shackles it has thrown away its mask

Now it serves the wounds it brings them gifts

Cherishing them like the queen of the ends

Accepting to the fate it has succumb itself at last

This fear exists of bankrupcy and emptiness

Running head first into mazes knowing they're without ends

May there be a reason to believe in freedom?

How does one create a paradise from hell?

Just surrender.