Trials Of The Times

Trials of the times,
Pain of the world,
A trial for the times,
Broken by others’ lies.

Broken words,
Empty lies,
Left in a state of limbo,
Trying to try.

Losing the will,
As this world of flames,
Burns my flesh to the core.

Empty lies,
Leaving a soul broken.

Raging into the night,
Soul set alight;
Burning in those flames.
Angry at the world,
Injustices all too common.

Broken world.
Corrupt being.

My life,
Battle against the fore,
Clawing onto something at all.
All for.

The trials of these times.
Raging against the machine.
Angry at the world showing true colours.

The world of the broken,
You submit,
To persist this breaking.
I ask why!

Raging into the night.
Against this machine so vile.

Represent, the world broken, corrupt and breaking.
Lies your only currency.
That simple excuse.

These trials of the times.

Been thinking of a poem like this for a little while, on and off. Many people showing me the worst of humanity. The basis, of the worst there is. Empty lies, deceit, a lack of kindness or honesty.

A lot of my recent work has been studying discontent and I see all this and relate. Why the world, many people persist what they hate. Cause what they blame. And commit what they say pains them so.

Many people see me and call me naive. Don’t mistake not wanting to see the worst in people for not seeing the worst. It’s my way of trying to go about my day, having to pretend not to see, otherwise I would probably go round hating everyone. Go round hating and not wanting human contact at all.

Bit of a random rage piece.