A collapse of the vision of a decent life,
Good people fall into the abyss of slow and desperate decline.
Walk aimlessly on the street,
The eyes are as hollow as broken pieces of glass.
Once strutted, as in a sense
Lifetime employees of institutions that will never fail, enjoy that pitiful safety;
Now with the kind of bitter pride, that only those who go to the execution ground have,
Beg for bread to survive.
The eternal indifference and desolation on their faces,
As if gazing into the abyss,
And never say anything.