Slow and dying world

Slow and dying world
Change does make the road, but no beginning is without end.
Men with chisel and hammer
carves blindly away from life’s ultimate goal.
Women, alike, weave tales to feed the starving
while quietly weeping to the tedious ordeals
that comes with every blessed morning.
Wishes to denials as heads to tails
bend and break under its own weight
to satiate the downtrodden with oceans to drink from.
Missing a desired world
Children fleetingly exist, coexist, with monsters
behind a glass lined with silver.
All life, without fail, mimics the cries that echo into the abyss
and retract themselves to hear the deafening din of solitude.