Apocalypse
Is this what the world has become
A savage land of miscreants
Who couldn't give a damn about the person beside him,
Blood shed over possessions
Over material things
While blood shed from the veins
Of those slain
By the very hands of those in pain
A vicious cycle
Never ending
Those who are suppose to protect us
Are the very people who neglect us
Who murder us and defile our names
Whom we put our faith into blindly
Only to be beaten
And battered
And left out to dry
Like an Outcast
Is my life less significant
That I should be treated as such.
Bruised physically and mentally
Emotionally.
But this is the world I have come to know.
I have learned to accept death
And pain
An everyday emotion
It's normal.
This is what the world had become.
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