World so cold

Many thousand miles away
In a place where the light slowly fades,
Where lands are covered-up with graves
Live the ones that cry each day.

All the ones that use to fight
The ones that never shed a tear
And were never overwhelmed by fear,
Are now dead, erased by death’s scythe.

The world has changed becoming worse,
No more bliss to embrace our heart
We’re left alone to face the dark,
We fight in vain against this curse.

*** Hmm... I see you don't like this poem so much... maybe I should stop writing since my rating started to drop... ***

~*~~**m.c.flem**~~*~