Good and evil,
the eternal battle.

The oh-so exaggerated
triumph of optimism.

Sadly, 'tis only ever true
in the world of tales and stories.

The besting of evil
the cold revenge
and a bitter end
to the deserving men.

The swift justice
the instant smile.

The triumph of good
over the forces of evil
only ever a reality
in fictitious worlds, ideal worlds.

In this grim,
moral wasteland
the only thing that exists
is the poison of evil.

There is no justice
no revenge
no bitter ends
to the deserving men.

Perhaps, it is our fault.
No, it is our fault.

Why have we become
accustomed to it?

Why do we accept this?
Just because others do too?

Perhaps, we deserve to be cast down,
but who am I kidding.

What is left of our legacy
that remains to be diminished?

What remains of us
that is not already cast down
to the deepest
depths of hell?

We are the wicked of this world
and deep down we all know.

We are in need of no savior
we deserve no savior,
for we have had
many of those.

I long for the day
when I wake up
in a fictitious world
an ideal world, better than ours.

For indeed it is up to us to make an ideal world,
but we are in no mood to do so.

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