Thrice "All the world is Mad" Observed

We are saints made of plaster, our laughter is canned;

We are demons that hide in the mirror.

But the blood on our hands paints a picture exceedingly clear.

We are brimming with cumbersome, murderous greed,

And malevolence deep and profound.

We do unspeakable deeds, does our wickedness know any bounds?

Something's gone terribly wrong,

with everyone!

All the world is mad!

Darkness brings terrible things; the sun is gone -

What vanity! our sad, wretched fires.

We can't medicate man to perfection again;

We can't legislate peace in our hearts.

We can't educate sin from our souls, it's been there from the start.

But the blind lead the blind into bottomless pits,

Still we smile and deny that we're cursed?

of all of our iniquities ignorance may be the worst.

Something's gone terribly wrong,

with everyone!

All the world is mad!

Darkness brings terrible things; the son is gone -

What vanity our sad, wretched fires.

Oh, what little light we have!

It only serves to show

The snares and seeds of wrath

We have already sewn on every path 

Something's gone terribly wrong,

with everyone!

All the world is mad!

Darkness brings terrible things; the son is gone -

What vanity our sad, wretched fires.

This poem sheds light on what we very well could be, but it doesn't have to be this way!

There IS a truth, there IS a peace that can be found in this Mad World if we could only learn to see it. I've touched it, I know it, but I don't understand it enough to use it as I should.

I pray wish with every fiber in my being that you never lose hope.