I Was Hoping Today It Would Be Fine, That The Mayan Prophesy Was Divine, That We Would Be Saved By A Glowing Light, I Was StirringΒ Β In My Blankets All Night, For Curiosity Bubbled Inside, To Bathe The Spirit In Which I Confide, Yet The Road To Redemption Is Still Coarse, Screaming For Wanted Change; My Voice Is Hoarse, We Still Hold The Bottle To Our Stained Lips, Holding On To Hope But Losing My Grip, Today I Wish Humanity Is Healed, But The Atmosphere Is Starting To Peal, Why Should I Hate When All I Feel Is Love, Yet All The Owls Are Killing My Doves
Again Trying Iambic Pintameter! I'm Deathly Afraid Of Owls So That Explains The Last Line