No Redemption

There is no redemption for your suffering.

There is no redemption for your strife.

There is no hand of justice insuring that if you do what you think is right you won’t end up resenting life.

There was no redemption for the six million Jewish people who died by the most inhumane acts of evil.

In the tragic epic of the masses of humanity history is overrun with darkness and calamity.

Messianic prophecies serve as a testament of our dissatisfaction, depression and restlessness.

Peasants by day breath the menial wretchedness and by night seek to relieve strife by quaffing medicine.

But the dismal fit of frustration and the pestilential pit of subjugation cannot be eradicated.

The billions seethe with grief and hatred, waiting in vain for the ultimate liberation.

But by the most rudimentary rational induction there are only black ravens.

The aspirations of billions of human young fade into bitter cynicism.

By the blighted hopes of life the many are imprisoned.

There is no redemption for your suffering.

There is no redemption for your strife.

There is no hand of justice insuring that if you do what you think is right you won’t end up with a miserable life.

There is no hand of justice insuring that if you work your fingers to the bone you won’t end up with a miserable life.

No social reparations made today can resurrect and compensate the slaves of yesterday.

For those locked up in asylums who lived life inside a cage and were tormented by mental illness until their open grave there was no salvation.

There is no salvation for the war torn and emaciated children dying of starvation.

There is no retribution.

To the daily misery we endure there is no absolution.

Our technological surfeit is no solution.

And now we’re just beginning to pay the price for our pollution.

Affluence still induces competition, conflict, and derision.

To that which we’re afflicted there is no inoculation.

To the global social sickness of dejection there is no emancipation.

There is only sedation, by living vicariously through entertainment and by various intoxications.

But even for the most righteous Christian agony returns.

And we struggle all our fucking lives trying to find a cure.

As for the rumored few amongst the multitudes who have found escape from the common state,

it is not because of hand of fate that decrees that those who have suffered and toiled shall be free.

There is no promise of drought woven into the cloth of life wrought from the ancient chemical broth that sired us all.

And much more often then not life is fraught with a dire peril and happiness is the cost.

Much more often then not those who have fought have lost and those who have sought to relieve the misery in which they’re caught found no deliverance.

Downtrodden and indigent flocks of citizens wait for a savior to visit them.

If you manage to escape the pervasive depression that plagues humanity, invades our intellect everyday, and fills us with contempt, rage, and sadness,

it’s not because of some fairness woven into the fabric of reality.

There is no spirit of justice that will heal the casualties and quell the starvation and corruption.

Your toil and righteousness don’t make you free from the boils of strife that foil your desire for peace.