A poem about the conflict of human will, the widespread "dog-eat-dog" mentality and our subjectivity to our own aspirations.
We are far from the furthest phase-
Reasoning, meaning, and effect are waiting
I know the climax is near, though
There are too many amassing,
Too many seeking
For nobody to take the consistent curve thats baiting
For no furious outcome to be peaking,
While seasoning is placating
And we are seasoned well, I can tell
Travelling about on our disparate journies
Spicing up each other's ever-ardent adventures
What was the reason again?
I know the rules, but i'm lost in the amount of tools I see
So many puppets
So little puppet masters, externally
On the inside, who's in control?
The growing compromise of perception,
Or the one who's taking the toll?
The outsiders are catching up
And patching up the wounds we gave them indirectly
They buried the collateral damage
And married the new, reformed vendetta
Even out the playing field,
Too many headstrong, not enough to yield
But then again, thats how it goes-
So draw your shield