Epicenter of Suffering

A race capable of macabre malignance and malevolent desires
And capable still, of compassion in polar opposite contrast
The same hand that pulls the trigger, places the blow, and buries the blade
May come full circle to protect the harassed, mend the wound, and calm the spirit.

What is it that drives one to become a hardened scenic and pessimist
Having been exposed to the same hardships, and toils of the petrified optimist?
Why do those seeking the alleviation, of those suffering from the human condition
Receive a battery of discouragement and undue opposition,
While the contributors to the pool of social refuse are welcomed often times
With profound adulation, as the righteous dwell in solitude born of derision.

What is the human condition?
Were it that of externally directed consideration, the crisis of this age wouldn’t be.
Were it a pervading air of philanthropy, few would be the cries of the hungry
And the bellies bloated of starvation in greed induced desolation.

I do not believe that people live in such condition out of laziness
I believe that mankind is so internally focused, and driven by immediate personal gain
That without having methods of compensation, a country with gross excess of means
Would sooner allow them to go to waste on the shelf of grocery stores than donate them
To a humanitarian cause.
This too me is the human condition.
Our inability to see beyond our own hierarchy of needs.
But our condition is but a symptom of a universal malady which is
Beyond the effect of modern medicine. It is supernatural in origin,
Thus it demands the attention of the Divine Physician, who alone posses the cure
I can’t claim exemption from the human condition and it’s source
I know only the method by which one can be freed of it
Though at times I choose not to use it

In closing I suppose this to be an introspective look at the shortfalls of a race
As seen from one of it’s prime perpetrators. Perfection is beyond my finite reach,
But should I someday, become wise enough and disgusted by my own abominable state
The doors of His clinic are perpetually open to those awakened to their state
In the hour when we realize why we are devoid of true love,
We will be at the threshold of an age where the human condition is no more.
Instead we will reflect an image that can do noting but seek the ultimate good of those around it
And in doing so benefits itself ultimately