Death, as we all know, has become a statistic
But have you thought about what that really means?
The consequences of your dispassion when pestered on the street?
When turning your hand away.
Panic spreads at the drop of a dime
When the peaceful town hears of horrific crime.
While patrons of hellish cities blink in boredom at their daily dose of body bags and casualties.
Fatalities diminish in redundancy.
Death ain’t sexy, not without my celebrities.
I will shake you out of this apathy, and I will set the example for all to see.
Things will change
And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.
Rip out the weeds tangled around our neck,
Pulling down to the earth with no resistance met.
In our statuesque scene thats ugly to see.
This garden of human complacency.
Isolated incidents pry from statistical consistence.
Indifferent to the mess left in the dark of the spotlight.
Distant lives measured by numbers.
Buried in nameless graves.
Their stories erased by a drop of ink to fill in a cluttered page.
Lining the sidewalk, they wait.
A subtle call to arms to feed the simmering fever.
Kept out of sight, but often dreamed of.
Growing by the day.
The heat behind your eyes, the fire in your chest,
The burning air that fills your lungs and deepens with every breath.
Shatter the inhibitions that shut you in.
Rid yourself of the stone on your skin.
Be courageous, be brave, burn brightly.
Light your soul ablaze, and I promise you that things will change.
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