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Trampling upon fellow beings

Without regret or remorse

To serve what end

Do they adopt this course?

 

Flitting from one

Relation to another

Not a trace of guilt

To slaughter their own brothers

 

No question of

Word or honor

Pouncing at every

Victim they corner

 

Freedom and independence

A crumbling sham

Death of free will

At their own bloody hands

 

Driven ahead unaware by

Ulterior motives solely

Souls being infested by

Moral depravity wholly

 

Affectations galore

To achieve selfish goals

The sanctity of candor

An ugly beast stole

 

Now rendered

Empty shells

Consciously brought about

This infernal hell

 

It’s all a part of the game

Survival of the fittest is the name

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2 Comments

  1. I can connect to each and every word.. aptly put!

  2. I have just finished reading a very wonderful biography about Sir Thomas More and am now reading his Utopia. I was aware of this man at school in history lessons but never quite ‘got’ how incredible he was. Your poem here reminds me of him and his apparent (and controversial) espousal of caution in all affairs, of making do with less, of having respect for humanity. Of course, much of what he said in Utopia is part of a dialogue and so might not be construed has his true opinion, but of course, one couldn’t think freely in those days and his dialogues often were a cover for his true feelings.
    ‘now rendered empty shells/ consciously brought about this infernal hell’. I agree, we (and our supposed leaders) are the architects of our own doom. Love this poem.


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