Upon the field, that runs with blood,
we stand united, against the flood,
kite shields locked into a wall,
can we stand against them all?

Gorgons stare with pupils stone,
but they do not want to be alone,
but alas their fated curse,
to live without love, what could be worse?

Trapped inside the conscious stream,
stuck within the waking dream,
watching people slowly die,
did most even bother to try?

It was the age when water flowed,
cities grew, electricity glowed,
populations soared, like birds with wings,
wondering what the future could bring?