we have wars & cancers, without moral answers,
and people choosing sides as the bullets clamber.
like foodless campers left in the dark of coldness,
we all have dreams & hardly hearts to hope with.
mope pits; a markets focus sloped on pie graphs,
shows in scope to letting us know who died last.
combined mass of unkind acts enslaved to hoods,
as if the trends of today said do away with good.
decay it would as if made of wood, so sad it was,
to notice over years this cliche of evil inhabit us.
savage thus, its bad enough, noticed it goes not,
he who cast the first stone is below his own rock.
knowing not they judge, & regretfully it is a fact,
grudges spawn, & so an awful art of getting back.
exists a path amidst the wrath, I belong to fright,
inexact, but a fact a trap is just beyond our sight.
no wrong from right, so long as would life have it,
strong confides among a tide of anti-christ habits.
strife addicts so unlike passive, they hurt for hate,
justice acts & freedom divides the church & state.
who would have this savage mass who acts alone,
but to be exact,this was passed by half the globe.
civil acts bestowed so not heard will be no voice,
as unspoken lifes die by mothers whos pro-choice.
a globe moist to unknown joys, such trouble its in,
as our own ploys ensure it to only crumble within.
bundles of sin glow under a dim, but focus'd light,
as we jump to attend, only to be noticed as right.
we're the knife of our own demise, a plots in turn,
and too many know not the might of gods return.
bright it burns, my life, as now i not doubt things,
as for the moment, and with these words. . .
i found peace.