This Is Where Our Hero Dies

Is there anything still genuine
In a world so insincere?
Voices speaking empty words
Assume it’s what we want to hear.
Lips are spitting lies of poison
Honesty dying day by day
Forfeited souls to feed deceit
In hope of forcing luck our way.
Are there wholesome hearts still standing
In this plagued, infected land?
Has all hope deteriorated
Under the monster’s destroying hand?
No one looking out for no one
Friendship with one and only: me
Distorted wants, desires sustaining
Alive, but barely; caged, not free.
Vulgarity and deception give
An impressive first impression
Then snatch us in and take us down
To the depths of their depression.
We’re lured into the monster’s trap
Masked with pleasures and appeal
Numb to compassion, numb to truth
So we no longer feel.
Is there anything left here at all
To bring us any light?
Is there anyone willing to come
And stand to give a fight?
Is there anything still genuine
Here, life, so insincere?
The world is crying out in pain
Waiting for anyone to hear.

“Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good.” -Romans 12:9

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