When the days were long and nights were cold,
A one man had a vision of perfect gold.

On grassy plains with daisys and flowers,
Everyone was free and no one in power.
No battles or fights - no wars,
Only sunny days to be spent on the shore.
No hate, no sorrow, no fear, no pain,
The towns men merely danced in the rain.

With a shuddering halt, the dream was crushed.
A bleary eyed dreamer almost spoke but was hushed.
In wastelands such as this there was no sun,
Only swords being drawn and rebels on the run.
With an iron fist the Beast did rule,
He was cold as death, and twice as cruel.

But somewhere in the dreamers mind did beam,
A small glimpse of the Utopian Dream.

GenoCide ěVOiDě