In a country far away I was raised Cursed is growth Will the younger generation break this oath? That was taken on the altars of sacred weaved deceit Hear our fairytales Not of fairies with tails But of lions who eat cubs Puppies being mauled by giant dogs Question it not. Its a norm Else you 'd be a lifeless form Of how the rain suppresses the beach That its spine is glued and does not toss How feet cause seed to be eternally burrowed into the ground Saving grace has refused to be found Sniff! Sniff! Stale is the smell of our air Water no longer quenches thirst Stunted we are Sunlight burns our sight Will this seed ever sprout? Loud silence would not have us discern vision or sound.