Eyes of Above.

Take your time, my dear,
there is no one aching or dying outside anyway
No one going to the side of religion
To try to be saved
No one begging, literally, for care
From anyone who complains of nothing at all
Just complainning for complain.

Look what you have done, mon cherrie
Mess is too few to tell the truth
Look what you and your dearests have won
While who really needs, deserves, have not even a percent of it
Look the trace you have left
If you look closer, it will not bite.
But we do not promise you the same.

Now, look and tell me:
what you did swear on the beginning of your staying really?
Oh, was those lies? No surprise.

The revolve is at its medium, believe me.
You really have not seen nothing yet.