Children of the World

Life is something we can’t help but adore,

It is pure,

But it definitely not perfect,

We give it such a powerful meaning,

Because life in is purest form,

Is all we truly have,

And because of this deep love and adoration for life,

When it’s taken away in any form,

We humans can’t help but shed a tear,

Feeling an unbearable pain,

Almost as though,

We feel the pain that the dead should feel instead,

The pain gets worse when we realize, 

That the one responsible death,

Death in all forms,

Is the world from which life came from,

The world not only brought life,

It also brought us the pain of death,

And so day by day we are forced to listen,

Listen to silence of death,

And the crying souls still alive,

Forced to live after watching the ones they love die,

The world creates agents of death,

Agents like man who strikes down his own down,

Taking the life of his own kind,

Out of envy, jealous, rage, and sometimes just because he can,

The world created men with hearts blacker than the darkest night,

Who are not capable of loving anything,

Their only lovers are pleasures,

Pleasure that often never last,

They hurt and cause pain for no real reason,

Some of them are even addicted to it,

Finding sick pleasures from causing pain, misery and death,

And so they continued,

Ending the lives of those around them for pleasure,

These wicked man are not sons of the devil,

They are sons of the world that they came from,

And like every single child born to this world,

They came here pure,

But yet the world hardened and broke them,

Bringing them to a point beyond insanity,

Where all they feel is anger, rage and madness,

They become wicked and cruel,

With an evil so great It makes the devil resemble a saint, 

And his demons like angels,

The monsters of the world in the form of man,

Using their sinful hands to cause misery and pain,

Their hearts no longer beat with love and kindness,

Only pain, anger, sadness and misery fill their hearts,

They torment and bring pain to those around them,

They are creatures of our world,

The embodiment of everything wrong in the world,

These wicked souls are the product of a broken world,

A place where love can exist,

But so can hatred, pain and misery,

The fact that one can feel pain in this world,

Is the greatest prove of its imperfection,

No man should fool himself,

In thinking this world is or ever was perfect,

Man can be good but he can also be bad,

He is a product of the world,

And so he must obey the laws of the world,

But sometimes those laws,

Can turn man in to a monster,

That should be feared more than respected,

The sinful hands of the world,Cruel and heartless souls,

Having no feeling of love,

A soul that knows only pain,

These are the monsters created by the world like me and you,

The world greatest mistake,

I pray I don’t find any man like that,

And at the same time,

I pray I don’t become the monster I fear.