The galaxy
If the galaxy is designed by
The ornate music of cruelty,
Then justice is a helpless cry
Of melancholy...
What keep us warm in the night.
To enhanced us a lester cry
For tomorrow...
Will be chained
In the galaxy by the forgettable wind.
Fear will be our guide... Instead of...
"Our dear hope"- what supposed to be
Our warm cover in the night...
When it was soft but our strongest will.
Is now. "Noway to be found."
When our dreams was our hope...
Which is now our biggest fear.
Cause it sealed away in limbo.
Giving no heed... To how our
balmy days and nights used to be
Which is now gone
Cause we are so take up by cruelty.
That we give no ears to justice.
It is fire is fading... Yet we took
A bucket of water an show no mercy.
So! Justice became a sad, hopeless and helpless cry to melancholy.
But unfortunate or fortunate
The galaxy is not designed by cruelty.
So... Don't let Justice be the helpless-
Cries of Melancholy.
Cause if ever Justice took that place.
Our sweet HOPE. Will be gone.
You know what they say
"You never miss the water - till the well runs dry"
Or "Too late shall be the cry of many."
Stand for Justice.
Chris Samsundar
©chrisyash
C