Mass Insanity

While a man once said
‘It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world’
Wondering whether he would ever laugh again,
Others claimed it was not madness at all
Affecting the world as a whole,
Rather a psychological condition
A mental disorder
A wide spread disease
A depression of spirits.
The same medieval acedia blamed
To have killed many suicidal monks
Before someone dared to declare it a crime
A capital vice, a cardinal sin,
So that shame would be bestowed
Upon those who suffered,
And suffer in silence still.
Attention deviated to focus
On manipulating bodies
To last forever,
To live longer a ‘sacred’ life
Regardless of how and why,
Neglecting to cater
For obvious essentials,
Peace and wellbeing
Of unfathomable mind.
A mind humanity struggles to comprehend
Of which it knows so little
Yet expects so much from
Ill.
Much easier to gaze at stars
To understand its home
Than to plunge in itself
To conquer its own,
Identity and peculiarity.
Thirteen billion years
To get to where we are
For conditions to align just right
So as to give shape
To universal consciousness
In its most glorious form,
Humankind.
A focal point
Where the Universe becomes
Aware of itself.
Two hundred fifty thousand years
Since its first appearance
Its mental illness leads it
To spit on the marvel,
Claiming and convinced
It is in itself
A natural disaster,
Undeserving of anything
The Universe can provide,
As nothing good can ever come
From the weird creatures
We have become.
While the environmental toxins
We relentlessly thrust out there
A self punishment increasing
Our infertility
Threaten our survival on the long term,
Many like to say
We do not deserve to stay,
The best thing we could do
Line up in a queue
And disappear in extinction
With no merits nor distinction.
Give up.
Truth is we are a work in progress
Nature continuously evolving
Into something stunningly powerful
Needless of weapons or title,
Something wonderful and amazing
Capable of looking at itself in bewilderment
Acknowledging its mightiness,
The extraordinary sheer existence
Of something
Rather than nothing.
As the lady slipped on the banana skin
The man laughed again.

[Featured painting: The Scream, undated drawing by Edvard Munch]

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