The ease of life, the mountain of gold we take our pride in, the luxury that fills our life and spills through our teeth with an Air of seniority. The disguise is happiness. The mask is satisfaction. The truth is complacency. The reality is fake.
We are suffocating in the blankets of our own content.
We glimpse the prize through the door and it entreats us, but once we've walked through the door, the prize becomes dormant.
The sweet taste slips down our thoats turning sour as it rides deeper to the heart.
The lullabies of comfort cause us to sleep too soon.
What will wake us up?
Is it the raging storms that destroy the houses of the innocent? Is it the dimming hope in the eyes of souls racked with terror as they behold their lives being swept away through the waters that whistle destruction, doubt, and despair?
Is it the fires who's smoke curls ever upward and saturates the bright blue sky tainting the sun and the moon to a blood curdling red?
This must wake us up. It is better for that the human soul arises in themselves a storm of desire, a flood of emotion, a fire of passion to help those in need.
Though help may be out of one's reach to administer directly, you can always directly help those around you.
The ripe feast on the table can be used to feed the wandering, or it can turn rotten as we become glutonously replete.
The tears of the innocent are sometimes wept in silence. Everyone has a battle, this is a call to war.
Wake up.
