There is magic
strewn through the mind,
but instead
we stare at screens
believing in artificial light,
supporting distorted needs
only to give up
before we ever try

So I will become a one man army
charging into
silent darkness
asking the forbidden questions
allowed,
“why are we completely remiss?
So imbued in
tranquil doubt
to the point of mass
ignorance?”

“Is there underlying reason
why we are hollow?”
It is hard to retain meaning
in this war without
illuminated arrows,
guiding a way to the finish line
of our self-corrupted
sanities

A mushroom acts
as the only beacon,
showing mercy within chaos,
symbolizing an
unspoken promise
of serenity to be found
if we stop rejecting the world
and listen,
instead of sitting around
expecting everyone else
to make a difference