what is corruption, thou art way of the man, thee who not wonder, while thy name in the sand, tis the moment I plunder, and make my grand return, and to thee I leave to you, why may thou shan't learn, about the way of the man?

for years I have wondered, why must man live this way?
why must man plunder, even to live one day, what man must go through, just to live and get by, even to those who close to him, may fall and let die.

but he not be the one getting them by, tis the one in second, the one to let lie
the sins of the father may be let on the sins of the son, but the sins of the kin, are brought on, by the sins of the father. tis a father, only one to watch the kins back, but through trauma and tribulations, the kin, has no father.

there once was a kin, so young and carefree, til the devil came knocking, on his door, he won't leave. the allmother let him in, like the wolf to a henhouse, but by then, it was too late, the wolf was in, and hell, has been let out.

man has been corruption, for as long as the world has let live, they'll take, but they won't give. there be an evil, more evil than let be, but tis man, who's the biggest weasel, but won't see.