AT 57
We have grown to become the old-young child
At 57 all our mighty dreams are still unborn
No more shall our pains hide
For our garment has been stripped and turn
The stories to tell the dead
Are full of mockery and deceit
They fought so hard to stitch our thread
But the greens and the white we've changed to a mark of cheat
They saw us very promising like the firefly
But inside our skull lies no mind
We rambled through the forest with lie
For even our headlight we keep behind
They saw us as humble as a dove
But the fire we've created between the East and the North burns higher than the height of the mountain
The hatred deeper than the depth of the ocean
The anger wider than the width of the desert
And the pain colder than the ice in the sea heart
Oh! At 57 we are yet to know our destination
Legacy series
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