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Sufferings of Angels
HOMELESS, HELPLESS, HOPELESS The Mornings Had The Smell Of Blood,
The Nights Too Scary To Sleep.
Every Minute A Louder Thud,
Making Human Lives So Cheap.
No Place Seems Safe To Stay.
Not Even Inside Own Houses.
Helpless, Being Treated As Castaway. Rendering, A Land Of Dead Masses.
The Sun Does Not Rise Up There, Cause, There Reigns Darkness & Evil.
All We Can Do is Say Our Prayer.
And Long For The Land's Retrieval.
Cries Are Deafening Than The Explosions.
Yet Their Wailing Gets All The Shuns.
Cursed Is The Age, Where Compassion Diminishes.
Hence When Cradles Become Tombs, Humanity Perishes.
