Opiating Reality

It would seem, that, humans, Too sensitive to deal with the harshness of life Prefer to fly on clouds, even if temporarily To make themselves believe That existing can be made of goodness! Opiates, making of them zombies, Accrue! And selling lords, depending on these Turn into millionaires, selfishly patting their stomachs After each meal they pay themselves with the dependency of These frail souls! Why, would it be too much to see humans self-imbibed with faith Regardless of however such may be presented, but, Having as sole aim, the drive and the power Which would allow them to live their ascribed due While keeping a mental check that everything about life Is temporary; from pleasures to pain; From satisfactions to miseries From smiles to bloody tears! Why, would those same opiate yearning suffering souls Not have opened their wings And spread the warmth of their soul Across lands and seas? Pray, Earth is a mere prison, and we, humans Have broadened limits Though we do have the capacities to cross borders In the very end, we find roots grown from our feet And fastening us to Earth’s soils Till the winds of the unknown Blow out our candles and take our consciousness Gliding across realms we are yet to discover! Being a prison, existing here is bound to be harsh And the power that thrust us here Shall be merciless and cruel While expecting us to kneel in front of it Seeking repentance and redemption! Escaping the reality, through temporary and addictive rides On false and colorful clouds Will have us ending nowhere except going in circles In an unexplained world, revolving upon itself And binding us to the reactions of our actions! Opiating reality, submerging psychotic abuse Alarming concern, immersing and suffocating us In a sea of revulsion, in which either we drown In its waters and turn into its foams Or, we reach the shores guided by our intrinsic Belief in the blinking lights of our perception of a lighthouse!