A wasteland.

Everything reaks of havoc.

The leaders have taken all the resources for themselves,

Leaving the ones they were supposed to lead,

With nothing but scraps,

Nothing but the ruins of what could’ve been.


The education, the money, the technology,

They took it all.


Now remains only a wreckage of cement, street lights, and yellow stripes,

Leaving the ones left behind, the people, with no option but to fight like savages to keep themselves alive inside the mess.


They all search for a way to survive like vultures in the harshest of deserts;

Looking for anyone distracted or slower to attack.



Every little open space represents an opportunity for the predator and a weakness from the prey.


On this land, kindness is the greatest of foolish acts, and vicious cunning the greatest of virtues.



The name of this land, you know very well,

And you cross it every day.