The Tragedy Of Being Alate

Our knowledge flourish order, As our culture isn't bound to any border, Our thoughts become a subject of debate, So as the youth listen they can change their fate, Though we are smart we get attracted to that light, The light of what money could buy and make us fight, Indeed, we fail to see the fading moonlight that leads our path during the bleakest times, As we misinterpret the materialistic light of desire as hope that only drinks our cries, When the dawn arrives every tulip bloom, As what doesn't is the dead whose life had only gloom, Those who died of chasing after something that doesn't buy happiness, As their exhaustion from the chase was their bottomless madness, Now they all lie like seeds for political vultures to eat, Once gemstones of potential but now left as rottening meat, The numb light was their final yet a toxic bait, Now we all know the tragedy of being alate.