There is a cancer in our society, eating us away.
A subtle scent, reeking from years of decay.
The quiet ghost of vast centarian proportions,
Grinding through time, a product of sin's vile contortions.
We struggle to thrive then live to get by,
But when so many rise and so many die,
The scent reaches the nostril of Him the most high.  
Pulling the trigger on a stomach of cess,
Trying to get buy, the few ignore the rest.
Principles have died and with them good deeds,
Sooner or later the last value standing is greed.