The Inhuman Condition
In a realm that’s cold, and so oft bleak
With souls corrupt, and spirits weak;
Where angels die and devils roam
And innocence, can find no home,
Where blood and massacres abound
And kindness rots within the ground;
We creatures, in our caves will dwell
To contemplate how we formed hell.
Tightly wound, and so confined
These gauzy tendrils, intertwined
For evil; we were each designed–
Corrupt with greed, and steeped in sin
There’s malevolence boiling deep within.
We’ve long been broken; tis nothing new;
Wickedness, in deeds we do
Right from our birth, and hitherto!
Each man finds hunger in his hate
With empty words, spoke to berate.
Amidst desires no soul can sate,
All dreams, in time, will melt away
‘till colour slowly bleeds out grey.
Cold talons close around the throat
And like the pain that they denote
They choke – they smother all seeds of light
Leaving mankind locked in endless night.