The Land of Ruins

I moved along a novel street
Hoped to learn from one I'd meet

I travelled across a thousand miles
To a land I knew had to be on exile

There I met an old man
Who had just lost his hand

What had he lost it for?
For there was nothing there worth losing for

I sought to know this precious thing
But he said the only thing worth dying for is to be living

That there was nothing as bad as a land afflicted with raids
Except the deceitful hands of the land of AIDs