We've reached the place where screams aren't heard.
You'd think they'd build into a din,
but one can't grasp a single word.
It has become silent as sin.
The angry words are shot to black -
that inky void that's unpatrolled,
It's silent, yet all're struck by flak.
Still, no one admits being sold.
But each life 's a product consumed.
They wail away the night and day,
pretending they're not rightly doomed.
Some will say that it's here to stay...
True, but are we?
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Depth !!
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