The jungle of modern days
Concrete species with the mist of the hot sun's rays
Vines of wires creep its path
Inside lurks its dark deadly mark
Drains life source of freedom
Home to envious souls
Lord of cruelty and destructions
Guardian of famine and grief
Covers that little tint of life
From those unfortunate spirits
Whose lifetime clings on the little lush
Where real life thrives
Hopeful for the next cycle
When everything ends for them to begin
Abundance and balance on its fists
Children of my children will live.
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