The Undercaste
Ludicra
Another day
Built from decay
A famined slumber
Gone is the summer
Frowned upon are the weak and the worn
For they reek of sick and sorrow
They outrun the spectre of hardship
Into scarred open arms thrown back to the mire
Each backward step is theirs to own (own)
Every heartache in a misshapen being (being)
Each hungry mouth an empty well (wellness)
Running dry, there's never enough to go around (around)
They are human herds of patience
They slouch and shift their weight
They remain in the cracks
They remain in the fray
Frowned upon are the weak and the worn
For they reek of sick and sorrow
From the creeping dawn
To the dying dusk
They dance a callous step
Forage for diamonds
Among the turf
Live for what is left
Trails of smoke
Yellow eyes
Live for what is left
Trails of smoke
Yellow eyes
There's never enough (of anything) to go around
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