False Prophets

In a world divided by paper, how can we sit complacent and demand  revival.  

When beautiful trees find themselves buried underneath concrete words of hate, how do we figure tomorrow we will have hope to breath in.

 The soil has been stained with blood, harvested with the sins of false faith. 

Following the shine of fallen stars only leads us deeper into the same black hole.

 So many are willing to sacrifice Mana for fast food, allowing our souls to die. 

Knowing all too well, they offer drinks from an ocean that leaves a seemingly unquenchable thirst. ©jdj 2017

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