Colorful fireworks and loud trumpet sound,
faces full of joy are rambling around,
this is how new year officially crowned.
Little do they know it will plot their bound.
In rise of morn is the fall of their fate.
All of the livings were placed in checkmate,
they left their lives with abundance of sate,
and they bawled, "this is the worst year to date!"
The clock stopped and cities went silent,
voices along the street became quiet.
All you hear is the hunger's strident,
being killed by the unending tyrant.
Now, home is thy only...