Lines of Verse

The folly of man is weakness,
Torn apart by inner strife.
The mass consuming his soul
Cut to pieces with a knife.

Fear and doubt consume
This feeble image of man.
Fumbling blindly with his claws
And searching for His plan.

Hope and empathy abound;
Compassion and love as well.
Laughing, though, go the strong,
Prancing through this Hell.

To care is but a crutch;
The wicked know this as truth.
And through eyes grown green,
Weak struggle and search for proof.

Power is knowing a lesson
Most difficult to learn.
That while the world is up in flames,
Best to sit and watch it burn.

The good; they will gasp, and
The mouths of men will gape.
But in the truth of harsh words,
There can be little escape.

So then, let us all let go,
And finally have a chance to see;
How little conflict will remain
Once we embrace apathy.

The folly of man is weakness,
And with the setting sun,
Leave me with my fears and doubts;
For my words here are done.