Only when the last

Green is seen

And the last

Plea is screamed

That we shall return

Our deeds for burn

Knowing you and me

Will never be free

For the money we make

Can not be ate

And the feeling of regret

Makes the sun never set

Or a sea

In which the end was never able to be reached

For we people can easily be a fraud

But we shall never be applaud

Of our selfish dish

Of remorse

And of course,

I seem to be the frauds main source