The New World '07
What feeling hearts yearn of;
Peace, prosperity, dream or fantasy?
War, hunger and sickness,
They all give reason for hope.
Looking to the future,
For new paradise lost.
Original purpose, forgotten.
Hatred, a true friend,
Bows graciously,
To the gods of prejudice.
Their scorn bursting rivers,
Flowing to the wilderness.
Like the rush of blood,
Between the wolf and the lamb.
This is the new world.
Only the warmth of its death,
Can eradicate the stabbing frosts of pain.
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