Can you hear them? The screams.
Turmoil, pain, guilt, shame.
Humanity is lost.
Our souls are as broken as the pavement,
as chipped as the doll’s porcelain face.
We ask questions we deem meaningful;
what are we doing to make a difference?
In a world with souls black as tar, is there a difference to be made?
What will you do when you grow up?
Is it possible to grow up in a world where even the adults are surrounded by toys, spending all day in daycares?
How much money will you make?
Money that will buy you proverbial joy, but will burn with you in a temporal hell
Royal we.
We are doomed. 
Society is dead.
Heathens.
You scoff, you shudder, you fear.
Truth.
Humanity is hedonistic, selfish, sick, broken.
Prehistoric.
Don your black lace, cover your visage with veils; look away from the future for there is no future. Not here, in a world as flat as the screens we see it through.
Flashes and glimpses.
History books,
Juxtapose our worlds.
We are no longer the people of the past;
nor those of the future.
Back in the day.
Get off my lawn.
Laughter.
Caned, Alone, Confused.
Disabled.
What were your parents thinking?

Blame a generation but, who raised them?
Cracked Soul.
Death comes.
We run, where?
Accept your fate.
Humanity is fallen.
The time has come.
Bravery.
Staunch Courage.
Look Death in the face and smirk?
Cut down.
Over.
Souls as black as tar.
Broken like the teapot on the floor.
Liquid, from the cracks.
Your standards.
Who are you?
Doesn’t matter.
End it.
He did.
Tears. Why?
 Humanity is over.
Fallen.
Gone.
Prehistoric.