Bastion, the final city of man
On the barren dust of the outlands
It looks like a giant blister
A translucent white hemisphere
Long dead is anyone who would have seen it from the outside
Ever present, a low hum of energy
Ears soon adjust
The worst thing would be silence.
The people have forgotten why
The sandstorms are so dangerous
Something to avoid at all costs
To be deathly afraid of
But they are continuous
Red particles perpetually pound
The shield, bouncing off of it
Giving all views of the sky a pink hue
The great metal walls of such tremendous size
Ensure not one citizen has seen a sun set or rise.
On the barren dust of the outlands
It looks like a giant blister
A translucent white hemisphere
Long dead is anyone who would have seen it from the outside
Ever present, a low hum of energy
Ears soon adjust
The worst thing would be silence.
The people have forgotten why
The sandstorms are so dangerous
Something to avoid at all costs
To be deathly afraid of
But they are continuous
Red particles perpetually pound
The shield, bouncing off of it
Giving all views of the sky a pink hue
The great metal walls of such tremendous size
Ensure not one citizen has seen a sun set or rise.
