Sense of

In a postapocalyptic world

a child never forget

the sound of bullets

killing his friends.

 

In that kind of planet

nothing have sense,

just exist hate

and for love not pray.

 

Kill is a form to express

when everything is wrong

in that sick world.

 

Death is something to accept,

survival is a way to live,

steal is for get

the most important things.

 

Environment is disgusting,

the lands no have life,

the air repulsive

and oceans are dead.

 

For nobody is important

that nothing have sense,

'cause that world

came to an end.