A Thought

Across the fabrics of time
There exists a world of rhyme
Inside, the so-called king resides
Where the argument is made to decide
If a friend is worth losing over a thought
Before one has been taught
What life has to offer?

Such an idea is sad
But is the damage really so bad?
So that we can’t repair what was torn
And open our eyes as newborns
Innocent to the world and her firm hand
Let us escape such a cruel land
And live with no worry?

Can you hear the cry?
As it soars across the midnight sky
Can you live without hate fueling the mind?
Can you leave the past far behind?
Or are you lost in the pain of sadness
Devoid of even a hint of gladness
To talk to me?