Ants
A billion ants all march'd in line
Their Queen doth bruise 'n' bleed them dry
For these poor creatures, world stops not
And no eyes turn'd when one doth drop.
A billion ants all beat 'n' broke
Their minds be torn, their souls revoked
Be turn'd to slaves and free from trust
To feed their monster's greed 'n' lust.
A billion ants whom time forgot
Exploited, wreck'd, and left to rot
They work'd their lives for scarce reward
Their souls unbless'd by love, nor lord.
Three million more seek death or dole
Becometh not more hopeless souls
Thou master scorns and leaves to rot
This dreadful world that they know not.
Copyright © Nathan Virica | Year Posted 2025
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