Creativity is dead,
Madmen kill children in their bed,
Zealots slowly destroy their ideals,
Caught up in so many ordeals.
Birds fly.
People die.
Sapience goes on;

Society is at a standstill,
An inevitable end, forestalled.
Yet not forever,
If ever.
War, peace,
People always starving for a feast.
Sapience goes on.
The few martyrs, dead and gone,
Their ideals never seeing the dawn.
In this world of variety,
We will never truly know it entirely.
Built from philosophical ends,
No wonder we have so much sin.
Sapience goes on;

So hide the kiddies,
Away from this life of pity.
None are safe from the evil,
During the worlds violent upheaval.
Conscience thoughts ignored,
Lies, death, and destruction galore.
Sapience goes on.<>

<>More-so a surplus of Imagination<>
Veekin Orange

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Arios, in the year 217 MA.