Oh, The Horror

With tumble weeds scattered,
children abandoned here and there,
men walk by without a care.
So stoic,
so apathetic.

And as if they are above,
the sad scene unfolding below.
What a sad way to end,
wasting away through suffering.

Sitting up on crystal thrones,
with crowns made up of gold,
it's a spectacle to behold.
So mighty is the majesty.

And as if they are above,
all the suffering below.
What a sad way to go
through agony and brittle bones.

Oh, the horror some people see,
the fall of a royal embassy.
Now hiding in shelters,
and rotting in beds,
what a scene to behold.

Colors aren't as bright,
food has lost it's taste.
Water no loner quenches the thirst,
that holds me prisoner.

And as if they do not know,
they just pretend for the show.
These kings sit upon their thrones,
watching the chaos undergo.

After all, what kind of king,
would he be?
A dictator with a crown,
a glorified mass murderer.

Just let them die,
one by one.
Tell them there's nothing,
that they could do.
Let them thing you're god.

And as if you don't remember,
just smile and polish that crown.