To Walk the Path of Life in Poetry

We are so nationalistic
We are mindless volunteers of suicide
We love so much
Criminalistic warfare is our only guide
To save us from ourselves
Everybody has a gun
Aimed to kill
Until we all die of
Our forbidden fetish
In disguise

Who are we
If they decide for ourselves
We know our prison
Is a divided prism
Trapped and unable to speak
An echo that was lost
In a time of heartless grief

Can you guess the system
Folded
Divided
And broken
Until your mind is tamed
And woven inside their thoughts
As you are controlled and caught

We are a number
Subtracted and added
In a psychotic plot
Unfolding its rhythm
By eating microdots
Then removed and discarded
To another commercial scene
Until we are deleted
From the television screen

Who are we
If they decide for ourselves
Who can be a victim
If they can’t walk by themselves
How do you know what is right
When history repeats itself
What gives me the power to write
When I contradict
The words put inside your mouth
What’s the price on your head
Did you think about that
Cause you do look dead

We follow the silence of the weak
Producing metaphorical images
Dividing eyes that
Cannot define the meaning of
Good and evil
The difference between the two
Are bound to a contract
Combining them into one

Maybe our failure
Is that we cannot distinguish
One thing from another
In an illusion that captivates us all
A tragic solution
For re-inventing harmony
And the perfect answer
For those who need a guide
To walk the path of life