You feel the Melancholy of the Night?

At dusk, the welkin grows dark,
The resplendent glare fades and vanishes,
From the heavens in the Land of Death,
The black vultures take flight.

In a land, hunger ravages its path,
Like a beast, an unstoppable behemoth,
Led by its master, poverty and despair,
Tearing homes and families, its breath fraughts the air.

Day by day, hunger makes its way,
Through a village, its land a shade of gray,
Its poor people, wishing for food day by day,
Not because they don’t have it, they just can’t afford.

The rich has it all, lavishness in their grasps,
Beyond tall concrete walls, shiny ebony gates,
Fields of crops, dying in the wind,
Thick smoke in the air, from factory’s ventilation grates.

Its black, evil claw is a plague,
It slashes through the land,
And with every home it rampages,
Bringing death, hunger, famine wherever it goes.

Another village falls in its might,
Lives cease to exist,
Vultures, fly away from the land of plight,
With their thirst for blood gratified.

At dawn, sorrow fades,
It leaves, countless deaths in its wake,
Behind innocent who lies,
Victims of its ravage, chosen for its sacrifice.

-originally created by Bobby, editted by zikang