A poem without a name

in a world driven by madness and chaos what are we to do, accept that this is our life or fight to make a new. if we choose to use our voice they refuse to listen, with each moment we waste the darkness starts to thicken we try to be noticed and we tried to be heard, however for some it's easier not to say a word. what's the point in fighting a losing battle when no one seems to care, if your alive or dead or just fighting to stay here. Drowning deeper in dread with despair, There are suffocating toxins in the air What are these toxins? I do not know Maybe grief, maybe pain, or just all our sorrow. Closing your eyes and seeing the colors and go through the world of wonder, thick and thin, ups and downs but when you decide to turn around you'll see a cloud. A cloud of relief and solitude awaits to guide you through a storm to peace, blocking out the treacherous outside world's error to a place where you can go at your own pace.