Carnival rides of sight and sound but never touch

that makes it all meaningless and

all the things that fill us with their emptiness.

Images of war and hate

go round and round and never stop

naked carnival, rot displayed beneath

and

it makes the angels CRY

but they're not really angels they're

all the things that ever died for others folly and

all the innocence slain by its own kin and

every baby ever starved to death

every mother died fighting for her child

every man who stood up against these things that kill and take

and all the UNDERDOGS who've ever bled bled their cerulean-azure blood

and died alone.

Gentle sheep with shorn love-wool and wolves lacking pack and pride.

It's when shadows creep about your bed

but the sun is still up.

It's when corruption is in plain sight but plain sight isn't so plain or so common.

It's when the mote in your eye has somehow become the beam

the only values are valuables

the sky cries but it's called rain

and the screams are lightening to those who are listening for them

but mere static to those who would rather ignore.

When ignorance is a shield rather than a weakness

bliss to those who hold it and cursed by the cursed who have cast it off

a lead mantle protecting from the radiation of reality

leaving all the dumb-blind-deaf but not the mute to rule the world

now you need a thunderous voice to drown out the lightening

to carry a big stick all the same.

A moral-preaching moral-vacuum

bereft of a filter

preaching God when it's Godless in name and most are Godless in soul.

The world is hollow.