I wish we'd afford
To walk in accord
Not use the sword
To cut the umbilical cord
It's a biblical horde
Observing the cynical course
It seems to be a cyclical chore
'Cause many seem to abhor the WALK
Yet talk covered in chalk with allure
But where's the reward?
PAIN & discord is what we hoard
Daily, seeking out fragility & frailty abroad
And we chastise the nice and wickedness we applaud
So much suffering from struggle we've absorbed
Not much of it is fallaciously a fraud
From my spirit, so much empathy's been poured
I deplore broken frequency chords performed
And I explore cosmic law as a reward
For it 's granted me the power of syntax, using a syllabic sword
And the facts of tact could never be ignored
Nor dismissed as I record aboard a monopoly board
The one called life, in which men created strife that I deplore!