The demons win
For it seems
Every agency in
The people are cooked
in the cauldron of fire
The burning questions
The desires of power and wealth
It is hardly entertaining
Every corner there is a crying shame
Sure the demons
Walking in the dark valley
They don't care
They want the pot of gold
Shining bright in their eyes
The people feel angry
Burning hot no cool air
Jumping up and down
Praying for rain to fall
The sky turning dark
The clouds whisper
Eventually rain falling
The battles, the people
The freedom of truth win
Raising the flag and salute
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