| There is no place in the upper kingdom
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| Not blighted with plague and famine
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| The bones of corpses stripped of flesh litter our towns
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| The desert reclaims the land
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| Corrupt winds of pestilence and contagion
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| Sicken the air with piteous lamentations of despair
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| No living creature great or small is safe from the starving and the desperate
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| Decades of drought
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| Seven years without rain or annual flood
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| The black earth is in ruins, cursing the unfed masses
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| Reserves of grain exhausted
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| Cities choked with sand
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| Roving hordes of the starving and emaciated
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| Scour the streets for what scraps they can scavenge
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| Even insects and vermin fear to tread our cities
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| Starving humans migrate like swarms of locusts
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| Eating carrion corpses dogs, human excrement, animal dung
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| The poor are forced to commit unheard of atrocities
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| Noble women beg to become slaves and whores
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| Children are dashed against walls
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| Infants are roasted on high ground
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| Those entombed are unearthed
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| Violating the royal dead
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| What the pyramid concealed is defiled
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| Lawlessness unchecked, chaos unopposed
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| The land is deprived of kingship
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| No refuge for the old, the young
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| The weak, the malnourished
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| The diseased sick who are left along to die
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| As the just and unjust alike descend into wickedness
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| And ravenously turn on each other
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| The age of famine is upon us |