Epigram For The Last Straw

How many prayers have been pattered out in vain
How many deeds have provoked a renaissance of futile smiles
And how many times have we been privileged spectators?

We'd rather be removed from this conspiracy
We's rather close our eyes to the insanity.

Lifting our hopes to withered plains
Dragging our thirst through desert storms
Interlocked through limitless empires of camera eyes
Observing distress with stoic composure.

Is this the act of resignation?

Admist the ruins the actors parade
Reciting phrases of 'Godot' and 'Lear'
Yet something's different, the play seems so real
How come we notice familiar eyes behind the masks?

Still we smile
While hope and death carry on their dialogue
Still we dance
The sarabande of nihilism.

Admist the ruins the jesters parade
Reciting phrases of 'Godot' and 'Lear'
Yet something's different, the play seems so real
Cunnung tears hide a Torquemada smile.

We congregate and sit hand in hand
Around the table of anachronism
And we form the allianve with gestures of habit
Carrying on the same old way...