Our world, torn apart by knives and shanks or sorts
people shedding sweat blood and tears
hope is bleak for a new dawn of freedom and peace
is there not a god who hears the cries of those who fear?
the horizon lights crimson through clumps of clouds
optimism grows with every ray
"accommodating us, this world shall do"
or so the optimistic say
bloodied hands stain the lands that our fore fathers had built
yet we live with this delusion that a hero shall arise
each story we read of fictional beings
it is that, that false hope and belief which would bring about our demise
yet sardonic voices extinguish the faint existence of a dream
insanity fills the void with haste
the pursuit for solace gains greater significance, casting aside all faith
like one who drinks from an oasis, the searing sand is all that he tastes
but what if acceptance of this mirage is all that is left?
a shadow of what we truly desire
as it fades away the dark reality sets in
even the hope in our hearts can't light a fire
barren and arid, this land holds no sign of life
laying face up to the sky, like a carcass the vultures circle you with intent
death follows the bleeding heart, one that is clouded in a mist
the choice is yours to fight the impossible or die as dinner with the desert scent