Pride

Written by: Mario Vitale

The real truth is nobody can handle anything
We are all minature soldiers in a routine of stregnth
Some may be used to a faded regime in ardent extremities
Others ponder the ellaborate scheme amidst 
Shadows torn in darkened pavement sought regime
We often will hide behind the false hidden garb of compromise
Twisted logical persuasion bursts through the sky
In our pride we tend to hide behind its mask a handicap
In pursuit of change we vaguely rearrange its ardent mast
Coupled by a porposal amidst tragic events in decay
We then surface amidst the variation of its pitch face down in some ditch
No one ever thinks rationally anymore too stuck up for their own good
In silence one can equate twisted brains in disguise of shallow pools
In retrospect to want we ignore its regard to help
Shades of green grass in illumination breath in oceanic conquest
An eager delight to shout full force inside the equated shape
We then will hide behind a loose decision made in the darkness
~
Through the flood of innocence we negate to tolerate its light
Instead we compromise by living by sight

Shaped our illusional grade of hope!