Empty Eyes

All the empty people walking
dead men in the streets
in the night, staring out a thousand miles, seeing, abiding nothing
what are they seeing through those eyes?
Living like rodents scurry
never thinking
never bothering to exist.
In all the world
i have not found a single spark of caring.
They will disappear into the night
one unremarkable day
and no one
will remember their names. What will they have changed?
They will spend their whole lives waiting
always waiting.
Why are they waiting?
What do they think will happen
to those who wait for the end of days?

I’ve heard it said that men must abandon the search for a savior
and save themselves
but their desire for one seems to me to be the best thing about them
at least they want to be saved.
Yeah, that sadness
on the clearest nights when the stars within their eyes shine
all alone in their beds trying hard to die
they hate it but it is their only life.

We came too late to history
we built our lives upon a world already dead
we killed it with our science and our apathy
our will to comfort and complacency
living in cities on the bones of humanity
and driving through the decomposing arteries of a God
we didn’t love enough.
The stink of death clings to this world like an old man
We came too late to history
it’s over already and we’ve lost.
We are the rats in the garbage
the fungi decomposing the corpses of our selves.
We will not become gods
we will not even become men.

If there was any hope, however slim, for this world to rise up to heaven again
i swear that i would burn the world to save it.
Even to save myself.

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