Beyond the wreckage//where a century of hope is 
found//one man is left underneath//the weight of a fallen 
empire//to rot with the seeds of lust//could the sun rise 
and shed some light?//the sun won't rise (“oh, shed some 
light!”)//to mend those wounds formed by the darkness//of 
a nations loathsome hands that had//held him down under a 
city of sin//when the foundation crumbled and the light 
caved in//even the greatest skyline did collapse//in the 
presence of a dream//that dream called hope//yet 
somewhere beyond the wreckage//there once died a 
man//amongst the remnants of his//failures//the horror 
rebuilds over these salvaged lands//and it industrialized 
fear//the horror rebuilds over to start again//to start 
again//the nation that portrayed hope//as a perishable 
resource//is lost within itself.