No face is foreign in light or gloom,
No soul born wicked—yet all make room
For shadows dancing on walls we weave,
While claiming truths we don\'t believe.
More cleverness, more golden chains,
We outwit demons but lose our names.
Life\'s curriculum, writ in fire:
Take more, want more, then still aspire.
From first breath drawn to final plea,
This race where no one bends the knee.
Why mourn a fall when none will say
They too have lost their way?
Behold! The mighty on gilded thrones,
Their marble laughter, their diamond moans.
Chariots roar where beggars stand—
One world, but built on shifting sand.
Where does the heart\'s true compass point?
In rebel songs or banker\'s joint?
The law stands blind where gold holds sway,
While children learn to look away.
Philosophers weigh the dust of years,
Their theorems dry, their unshed tears.
The judge\'s robe hides mended seams—
Who tends the wound behind the screens?
Faiths divide the selfsame sky,
One sun watches both bless and die.
If God made lamb and wolf alike,
Why do we cloak our claws in spite?
They name us Earth\'s appointed lords,
Yet watch the apes—their simple hoards:
They take no more than hunger needs,
While we plant forests of hollow deeds.
To lose this form, this sacred spark,
Is to drown the light that parts the dark.
Not angels fallen, nor beasts unwise—
The grandeur blazes in how wide we open our eyes.