Saying we are at fault, Grim comes bringing.
Dry wilting, grey clouds; sharp sound screams ringing.
Mindless and standing here under the sky.
How could these blank beings do this to us?
And they cannot even answer why.
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No rain falling down in this crowded fuss.
An act only Beelzebub could muster.
Our worth has none in this murderous place.
Low are we who did not cause this bluster.
The killers blame us victims without grace.
Lucky ones hide to survive; hope to live.
They are blind to the actions that take place.
Trying so hard but there’s not much to give.
Who can decide what is ahead to face?
Saying we are at fault, Grim comes bringing.
Dry wilting, grey clouds; sharp sound screams ringing.
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