The solitude of nature graves beneath
Bones of evil and righteous at feet
The darkest spills of blood soaked into soil
A barren land now producing usable oil
Near fields cultivated with crops
The evil spreads through sipped in drops
Consumed by many these crops when sold
Evil makes its entry, cold blood on hold
People get crazy as their blood absorbs the produce
Unknowing the dilemma that soon would be in use
Good over evil fight across the globe
Injecting every being, walking like a dope
Drugged and dosed flashed like zombie coned
Each walk away, their precious disowned
A world of dead, its soon gonna be
Unless the waves crush in land, so be it a sea...



©sim