Entranced by the flutes of dazzle,
We are sucked into a cerebral state worn to a frazzle.
The voyage has been tricky to tackle,
Since man took from the forbidden apple.
There once was betwixt two sides a mighty tussle,
Who would fail, who would prevail, was a matter of much quarrel.
The land of weak soil gave way like the sands of time in grip
As man became overawed by the splendor and power of kingship.
We were created in the best of forms, for the best of deeds
We reduced ourselves to the worst of deeds, to attain the best of forms, no heeds.
Mankind lost its identity in the gamble of power,
Its hold over the rope of reason loosened in the tug of war.
The clouds of darkness and misery are looming over us
Lost, with decaying courage, we merely look up and await its rage upon us.
Grief takes deep blood-rich fulfilling breaths,
As atrocities rise the count of wrongful and unjust deaths.
Yet, that position of high esteem still awaits us,
If only we would muster the courage to rise up from this quagmire of puss.