Stretched for miles, the land is consumed in flames. The toppled, rich mans high rises returned to the ground where they once came. Their thrones where they once sat are nothing but a memory. We dance on charred remains and listen happily to their cries of agony. What was once our painful struggle was their accomplished stride. They now share our pain, our struggle, and what it is to be deprived.With schemes in their heads and guns in their hands, they cursed this land from the beginning. Draining all the culture, and all the pride. Dividing us that was their meaning. Too strong if united, too weak if kept separated. All we needed was one spark and one small flame to be generated. Their thrones where they once sat are now just a memory. We dance on charred remains and listen happily to their cries of agony. -me
