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State of Disarray

In an age Where souls are pawned For fame and wealth A time when Good and evil Cease to war A period where Men passed, and Weaklings arose A place which Breaks my heart yet fuels my limbs A land whose Stain I loathe But name I bear A people who Curse the stench Yet eat the feces Here, I’m to call home Home or desert? My path is vast So I call it home But journey it is I hope to sleep And wake in a time Where men are men.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things