I wasn’t expecting the perfecting of empathy,
just hoping that we could learn how to be
generally, a little gentler with our humanity;

But what I am watching is beyond crossing
the borders of insanity, the lines in the sand we see
are so far behind us it isn’t even a memory,
more like some mystical fairytale,
a lie that we tell to ourselves
to believe we were once decent people.

None of this is appropriate or adequate,
but if you take a generation and add a bit
you might start a bad of habit of thinking up
a way to remix this acid trip in which we exist,
cause this hallucinogenic fix has had the opposite effect,
instead of expanding it has caused a loss of intellect.

So, the warrior goes on, while the poet is gone,
the killer is strong, but the dreamer is wrong.
Up is down, back is forward marching on toward
a black bitter beastly legend we named lord,
history imbued with the blood of love
on the tip of a poorly formed sword,
as the slant of the blade reflects and distorts
the value of life lived, given, and sacrificed
to all of those ridiculously profitable lies.