Cruel Realities

Where has happiness escaped to?
That flaming sentiment we've failed to pursue

For in its fleeting form, joviality is sly
Like a shadow, manifesting only when light shines high

And thus we, evermore encompassed by anguish and malice
Can have no light while consumed by this dark palace

Our hearts, with fleeting passions and shallow rhythm
Have grown wizened by fickle love, ever greater is our schism

Seas of red and blue roar in turmoil as the masses hunger for strife
Some lament yet most condone, hailing it an austere way of life

But if this is all there is, a world where violence runs wild
Of war and prejudice, born scared is the child,

A realm in which we submit to Vice, our ruler
Oh how he torments us all! Indeed no storm could be crueler

Then what means unity or acceptance? These romantic rolls of the tongue
What foreign concepts are these that we've so undone?

For those with power flounder as children play with fire
Manipulating and stirring the oceans with their own cunning desire

And we, like horses left ignorant by blinds
are left to pursue fruitless victory, our only goal the finish line

While millions face famine, abuse, and grief
We splurge on material “joy”, ah what a feast!

But what of the girls having children at age ten?
What of the gangs leaving streets running red?

What of animals tortured and maimed to satisfy our glut?
Even then we discard their meat, entertaining only the finest cut

What of bombs showering skies overseas
Ah but what eyes can’t see the heart can’t perceive!

What of the masses submitting themselves to fatal sensation
The suicidal highs, the euphoric addiction consuming them with temptation

What of depression? That evasive lover caressing hearts
Demanding submission yet hidden within, master of the grievous art

What of mechanical beasts destroying the atmosphere with adamant breath?
The emissions heinous like dragons, submitting our world to imminent death

As they prowl the streets, opening bestial red eyes in traffic
Hiding bombs and tromping innocents, oh how destructively tragic

What of schools rendered prisons out of fear of blood and panic
Education tortured by self righteous bullets who spread scenes so graphic

What of millions killing themselves, the pain too much to suffer
Shouldn’t we wonder how cruel Earth must be to deprive these souls of their luster?

This monologue could go on, but I’ll spare you the torture
Just know that every act of carnage awakens the blood thirsty vulture

So are we happy? Does this word cross our mind?
I truly think not, for never has a disposition been so hard to find…