Weak

hmmmm

Existence is a feeble man

Reality a feeble fist

Men of merrit, honor stand

as if they know of reasons concerning bliss

 

Tell me man of Parchment

explain gentlemen of robes

why is it that your words dont take

that the masses still die in droves?

 

The young generations call for connected fate

and insist upon an idealized world

that the dust filled bones can not take.

 

Life, a struggle

innocence a weakness meant for loss

if kept pass a certain age

that man or women consider tossed

 

I say in fact,

we have it right

dont tell me to accept your sin

this world a canvas torn asunder

by the demons frought within

 

Its time to accept the situation

lifes a moment existing here

and if its now, then hold dear

for its fire that burns the heavens bright

and in that fire we take delight

for its the same fire that powers sight

used to burn, and turn, our enternal flight.

Author's Note

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