The Voice of a Generation

From the top of the pointy mountains old

To the bottom of the boiling oceans cold

Leads a giant staircase of concrete

With steps too great for human feet

whom for such was a mighty walk

not to known though the people talk

Happy is proper was not remembers

Beneath a million and a half Decembers

Profound the mountainly will never cease

Towering the oceanly shall release

Forget expands before not serene

Terror advances in here between

More beyond of the looking eyes

No small withstands or sacrifize

The end could try before the start

Beneath the bottom of a broken smart.