Society of Fools
Maybe man has always been insane —
and the cure is divine justice.
We built walls between our own reflections,
called one superior, the other less human.
We say white and black, rich and poor,
high class and low,
but all breathe the same air,
and when death comes — all rot in the same soil.
You fools —
you let colored paper define your soul,
you worship gold and forget your God.
You think wealth makes you immortal,
yet the grave makes no exceptions.
If white was power,
then the universe would not be born from darkness.
If superiority was truth,
then why do kings and beggars both cry in silence?
You painted paper and called it money,
built altars of pride and knelt before your lies.
You forgot: when the chess game ends —
every piece returns to the same box.
This world was built by fools,
and that is why foolishness feels like wisdom.
But when divine justice rises,
truth will tear through this illusion —
and the fools will remember who they are.
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