Redemption unseeded destitute, dead.
Impervious feelings locked in my head.
My gage is on empty
Vacant within
Appeal to the masses
Anarchy, sin.
The act of forgiving, the act of hate
My shoulders are heavy, much on my plate.
I pray for some strength
Some help to be strong.
When our world does not differ
From right or wrong

Fanatics provoking harmony, peace
The world we fight for is only on lease
I laugh as the tears
They dry on my face
Tune out all the noises
Stare into space.

Beseeching for answers that will explain
Producing mass dreams to wipe out all pain.
We mass-produce clothing,
Mass-produce life.
Our feelings our cloned
Mass-produced strife.

K.A.Stryker 8/2000
hmmm...

*shrug*

There you were...a poem. :P

Ever and always
Me