Worlds apart, yet connected by the fight to strive,
Against troubles and turbulences, struggling to survive.
The draw of the pack determines your fate,
What, not who you are, decides what awaits.

Kings and Queens never need, but always desire,
Endlessly receiving fool’s accessories which almost always, tire.
Unaware of the ingratitude they portray, they always want better,
If a witch appears, they surrender and scream ‘let her!’

Virtually nothing penniless peasants possess,
Cruel conflicts oppose them, but they fight on, nonetheless.
With no food, no medicine and no money to spare,
Millions perish every day, and no-one seems to care.

A bond is shared as we are all made equal,
Barriers attempt to divide us, but we’re all mere people.
Underneath the skin of deception, on judgement day,
Judged only by your soul, its purity will decide ‘did you live the right way?’