Fabricated Forest Of Peace. Shooting stars, or flashing lights. Steps to heaven or fancy lights. Craft of man replaced with the craft of machine. Metalic forests, gleaming in sunlight. Emitting the fumes that are choking humanity, Ignored by the ones who have caused all this calamity. Suffered by thoes who are slave to the rich, Trained to aim for the skies ending up stuck in a ditch. Those unworthy like a pigmentation of the skin, The freckles of society, Thoes with a hidden worth, Rejected by the top, A generational curse. Never destined to stop.
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