‘Bag-aged’

You play in the park under the sun,

all you think about is carrying the fun,

far away the flight catches you,

inside those are demons with fired caves.

Laughter falls under the deepest sin,

and you will die leaving the life’s skin,

grave beneath the shadow lies of those,

we trusted and for those we played with our lives.

Help me understand the substance of truth,

no one can run up the hill to that brute,

for which far away he threw his baggage,

there was nothing left but an uncalled handle.

Wonder lusted years, glory moments,

washed away under the sea's currents,

for whom you died for never felt the hunger,

for which you have not pulled down your mighty thunder.