The shutter shades are closing down

The same mistakes keep going around

People seem to fade to black

Rusting like an old, abandoned shack

Shuddering and creaking,

shaking violently against the wind

The building is barely standing,

the cracks are becoming apparent

Rotting wood and metal bars

Ants run the desolate bind like cars

Aged so long, time seems undefined

Exiled amongst the rest of its kind

It leans, roof built to fall

Just like society in a matter of moments, death will finally call