Apocalypse

Is this what the world has become

A savage land of miscreants

Who couldn't give a damn about the person beside him,

Blood shed over possessions

Over material things

While blood shed from the veins

Of those slain

By the very hands of those in pain

A vicious cycle

Never ending

Those who are suppose to protect us

Are the very people who neglect us

Who murder us and defile our names

Whom we put our faith into blindly

Only to be beaten

And battered

And left out to dry

Like an Outcast

Is my life less significant

That I should be treated as such.

Bruised physically and mentally

Emotionally.

But this is the world I have come to know.

I have learned to accept death

And pain

An everyday emotion

It's normal.

This is what the world had become.