Reality
The rich stand on the throats of the poor, they smile dinning on rich fatty cakes, from their yachts and in their ballrooms, they look down on you at 60, with the outline of their boot print on your neck and say thank you. They’ll rip the food from your children’s hands. They’ll use them as bargaining chips while convincing you it’s about money. When they win, we’ll hail their victories knowing their absence of virtue. They’ll spend endlessly, for more power, for more resources, for more.
We wander home in bright streets, unable to see the stars. We stare at the wild, an art exhibition imprisoned in digital signals. We take night strolls to stare at the peaceful concrete jungle, illuminated by streetlights we don’t need…to smell the exhaust of our impatience. We attend cathedrals created by man, to connect with a thing that condemns its existence. We give them money, so they may hoard and craft grand altruistic illusions. Even as mother earth, sends her vines to reclaim our atrocities, we rip them from their roots and claim we know best.
We turned love, into a game of vanity. Raw fingertips, swiping for vain arousal, hoping for love, settling for those who tantalize the senses, who stimulate the nerve endings. We traded intelligence for popularity and wisdom for thumbnails. Poetry, reduced to two lines of a catchy song. Music, reduced to a 15 second bridge for quick punch lines. Lifetimes of craft dwindled down into 30 second intervals of butchered craft so that the popular can strengthen the hollow.
We do all this, and question why the world is dying. We do all this as the herd claims that god has abandoned us. If she stares patiently watching, when it requires bloody hands to turn us from the cliff’s edge—then perhaps she has, more over, perhaps its justified. Reject the herd, walk the other way, run for your life. They’ll chase you, because you’re not like them. They’ll try to convince you to kill the light, to kill the crazy. You’re not crazy. Run damn you, run. There’s still light out here, not much, but enough. When you find it, keep it alive. Keep the lighthouse lit, there are souls drowning in the dark. Just hold on to it because we’re counting on you.