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Echoes at the Horizon

Now,
they hear with their ears,
but speak with their eyes,
and see only through mouths
molded by chaos.

Who dares unravel
this maze of sense?
The nerves of reason—
twisted, tangled, undone.

What once stood sacred,
a truth etched in stone,

Now - they smear doubt,
drape it in falsehood's veil.
Consumed instead
With painting evil as virtue.

Even on straight paths,
Their steps stagger—
Chasing illusions,
Hoping for sweet water's lake

in barren lands.

In the blaze of progress,
They forsake values—
Centuries of wisdom
Teetering at ruin’s edge.

I am but a passing breeze,
a bubble adrift in the stream,
watch this storm swirl.
Yet, unyielding,
I press forward— 

carrying whispers of resolve
From the bend of this horizon.

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