In the Company of Wolves

In streets that hum with lifeless noise,

Where greed parades and guilt avoids,

We pass like ghosts with downcast eyes,

And build our truths on hollow lies.

We shake cold hands with fake delight,

Then draw our knives when out of sight.

Our words are sugar-laced with spite,

And peace is just a stage-lit fight.

The child who dreams is mocked, not praised,

The kind are trampled, not appraised.

We laugh while others fall from grace—

A species proud of its disgrace.

We take more than we’ll ever need,

And call it progress, mask it “speed.”

We dress up conquest, war, and theft,

And claim the right, because we’re "left."

The ones who love are seen as weak,

The brave are those who dare not speak.

We chain the truth, let liars reign,

And feed our gods with others’ pain.

We build tall walls and lock the doors,

Then bomb the ones who sleep on floors.

We talk of justice, preach of right—

But burn the world to prove our might.

Oh, look around—what do you see?

A world that weeps in silent plea.

And still we march, proud and content,

Not to forgive, but to resent.

So if you ask what hope remains,

It lies beyond these self-made chains.

Not in the stars, but in the cracks—

Where light still fights and love fights back.