Self-Destruction

A dreadful thought of apathy
Mellows my mind in these times,
Noticing pains but lacking sympathy,
Predictability as much these rhymes,
Consequences of falsehood and dishonesty,
Tainting the honour of their tongues,
A world so strangely counter-productive,
Wishing for rights in acts of wrong,
Beneath rubble of shattered skin,
Cries of vanity echo along
Walls painted with their memories,
If the arsonists of burning buildings
Could be saved,
Would they be so deserving?

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