Embracing a world of balance and unrest,
Going with and against the tide,
Fighting the good fight, and losing anyway.
We have little control, if any at all
Throw ourselves to the wolves voluntarily
To see how we measure up
In the grand scheme of survival.
Following the light, only to find it blinding,
It's a set up, we're all to blame.
Failure is a triumph in these days of loss
Pat the dead man on the back
He feels no shame, no joy, no loss.
Dredge up the sunken ship,
To Watch it sink again.
The monsters of discovery find new tortures to learn.
We're all to blame, barbarians barely civilized,
Taking down our own.
The epic battle should never have happened
But it's happening now.
Pat the dead woman on the back
She will not bear one more careless killer,
One more dead man,
One more hopeful child.
Pat her on the back and send her on her way
To the place the living can never describe
And the dead are always unbearably silent.






