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Beds of Broken Glass by Lelia Thomas

For all the want of wit and wisdom
To sit down by myself and wonder how
A world is birthed or a worker ant slaves
To find few answers as sand slips downward
In a precarious hourglass.

For all the tears cried and prayers lifted
To skies above and earthly idols which perish
A search for hope or a singular sign of life
To feel a beating pulse as plates shift and waves flood
In a world tearing at its seams.

For all the loves and embittered hatred
To measure the worth of such things
A pursuit for serenity among angry, boiling lava
To claw at old traditions and die in false enlightenment
In a palace called Arromog.

For all the want of change within and without
To give into binding habits and addictions
A species of puppets, salivating for a line of lies and cocaine
To comfortably live as sand lies on the ground
In a bed of broken glass.