I’ve worried my soul into oblivion,
Starved and irresolute
I cannot fathom peace
For peace is but a dream
In a world of war
And dreams are but
Wishful apparitions
Of a time that was
But that no more will be
Yes, it is a hard, hard world—
No place for the young
And excited
Things that cannot be understood
Are taught and acted upon
As if they were the words our parents
Teach us to speak as children
But we will pay
For the wages of sin is death
Said one dreamer to many
And that has been what this
Manifest Destiny built itself upon
A rock of the nebulous
The laughter of the brokenhearted
The embraces of the abused
Oh but that death would be beautiful
And all this
For which we will pay
Would be meaningful
Maybe.
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