If the galaxy is designed by
      The ornate music of cruelty, 
    Then justice is a helpless cry of melancholy.
       What keeps us warm at night?
       To enhance us a Lester cry for tomorrow... 
Will be chained 
In the galaxy by the forgettable wind.
         Fear will be our guide.
Instead of
"Our dear hope"- what is supposed to be 
Our warm cover in the night.
     When it was soft but our strongest will.
  Is now. "Noway to be found."
When our dreams were our hope
Which is now our biggest fear.
Because it is sealed away in limbo.
  Giving no heed, to how our  balmy days 
   and nights.
Which is now gone
     Because we are so cruel.
      That we give no ears to justice
   The fire is fading... Yet we took a bucket of  water and shows no mercy
      So! Justice became a sad, hopeless, and helpless cry of melancholy.
But unfortunate or fortunate
  The galaxy is not designed by cruelty
So... Don't let Justice be the helpless cries
 of Melancholy.
Cause if ever Justice took that place. Our sweet HOPE will be gone.
You know what they say   
"You never miss the water - till the well runs  dry" Or "Too late shall be the cry of many."
Stand for Justice. 



© chris_yash