Shackles

We lay in shackles

While the wood crackles

From the fire that consumes

And engrosses the world with fumes

Of desperation, and pity

A self-destructive species that thinks it’s witty

We look upon the stars

As if the world was a buried jar

With the slippery glass there’s no way out

Just an overwhelming drought

Billy would say we didn’t start it

A common answer that appears to be legit

But isn’t it our duty?

To protect this innocent raw beauty

To uphold the ideals we see fit

Or has the human race quit?