Standing at the edge of the city, surrounded by the twisted buildings, grey from the ever-constant smog, suffocating the life out of remaining surviving trees, and watching helplessly at the sight of utter misery dwelling of poverty;
Poverty has name, a cruel almost indescribable brand, the word that people dare not speak of, a word darkened by spite, a meaning of rot and social carnage; Ignorance.
Try as much as possible to be whole; to breathe the life that we take for granted, to walk the alleyways with honesty shining through our eyes, and with a genuine and profound respect for the living and the dead; Try.
The appreciation towards your, and everyone’s, existence is fueled by the hellish realm that we live in; Oh Yes, shaking our heads to ward off the anguish, and the denial of what you and me stand for; life begins only when mortals have felt the tip of compassion sinking slowly in the heart;
You will wake up soon I am sure of this, when the thought of humanity floods your consciousness and you laugh at sadness and cry at joy; yes my friend, please do so, you will be dead soon enough.