The hand of man in the physical plane
Rust and corrosion. Strife and pain.
Breaking the child with no refrain
Strife and rust, corruption and pain.
A child born, God’s sweet breath on it’s lips,
Every moment on earth, back further he slips,
A life for redemption or soul that is clipped,
Disillusioned spirit, life’s fabric it rips.
Love that is taught of selfish desires,
Relentless and thirsty that never retires,
Pain preferred where softness mires,
Confusion and conflict, all burn in the fires.
Innocence surrendered, box of broken toys,
Inner silence so deafening to shut out the noise,
Compounded corruption, manipulated ploys
An anger so deep, that only destroys.
A life for salvation, or simply to learn,
Each in their time will take the next turn,
To many the fire where they will burn,
Little time to reap that which they yearn.
The hand of man in the physical plane
Rust and corrosion. Strife and pain.
Breaking the child with no refrain
Strife and rust, corruption and pain.
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