House of Stone Mass Grave

The wind of change Blew off dust settled on my eyes, I saw living corpses Strolling the streets of urban. It blew away the cloth Tied around my face, I beheld the mass grave Of peasant farmers who died From void promises for land. The wind erased Rhetoric from my psyche, I discovered the skeletal currency; Bones of a long breath departed economy. I saw dead hospitals, The ill buried alive in their homes. I am a son of the soil Living in a mass grave House of Stone.