Under the blue sky, the sun shining through I wait weak and weary. Tethered to a pole, I do have a clue Of a fate set for me. Deprived of a choice, time to bid adieu There's no way out, you see. But my death brings hope, for there are those who, Despite not so many, Care for us and fight our own battle. Who is "us", you ask. "Us" desires to live, a plea overdue; Yet your atrocity To us meek beings, Whose deaths you don't rue, Lives on till now, sadly.   Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!