Until the fire stopped burning,
There were things that people would do.
They took your heart
And blinded you with lies.
Scavengers they were,
Of an uncanny breed.
Humans they called themselves
But really restless liars
Who would do anything to get
What they wanted.

The things they do
To pollute your minds
May look like justice,
But justice is blind.
Just twist everything around,
Until they threw the dice
And wait till they made the move.
Monopoly it was,
For ransome; rancid ransome,
They disrespect love.

Of all the things
We can't find truth.
It's sensible for us
Not to blow,
Without a tune.
Yet we still do.
Search, find, wait
Is all we do
For hope is nothing
That can be revoked...

BY ABIGAIL D.HINDS