Akhand Singh

We strive here from dusk to dawn

Withering with time yet singing the victory songs

In the city of angels we are just few of horns

Some broken and some bearing the burden of the throng

But miracles rarely seem to happen

And the homeless, the weak still suffers the lack of affection

We all are here, though, with the urge to survive

To kill another’s beast and eat the flesh and thrive

In the city of angels we embrace the demons inside

To live longer than the desirable life.