Mans endured much
With the ages of time
Though flawed, it's such
That society is fine

As the cycles of life are something befuddled
Our will to survive is filled with much struggles
The very means of prosperity is troubled
As oppression materializes in form that's so subtle

We try to adapt
All to better ourselves
Yet much is stacked
On the need for wealth

While the system in which we rally beneath
Suppresses our will which continues decrease
Due to frivolous attempts we merely secrete
Through boundaries established against heightened feats

We are the cattle
The herd is abused
The tools waged in battle
Till drained and reproved

This process is life, occurring again and again
As generations will all ways supply the next of kin
This is a game filled of corruption and sin
Making life a struggle, something ``you'll never win