A Jungle of Sound and Sorrow

I’m just one more person, leaning towards hopefulness.
Commodity rarely seen, less expected.

Raise your voice with mine, be heard in the increasing din.

Shout to the moon, howling with primal rage.

Towards oppression, towards anything.
Truth be told we’re yelling at ourselves, our insecurities

Masking the pain with rage against the sinking sun.

Listen to your loved ones, hear how they scream within every word?

Dismissal, no one wants to see.
They say it’s too late, the writings already off the wall,

Inscribed on our souls, weighing us down.

Unable to even rise in the morning, four walls becoming

The world we can’t see beyond.
So we sit in the dark, sweaty and covered in filth.

Whispering our thoughts to everyone we think cares

At the same time, they do it too. Leading us to a jungle

A jungle of sound and sorrow.

A journey of succulent success.
Or so we’re told.
I started off thinking I was hopeful, that I was different.

It’s time I put down my walls, let the apathy wash over.

It’s time I gave in…

Yeah, it’s time.

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