Beneath the dismal moon.

Under watch of shining stars I sit and contemplate the dawning of the end of man and how we’ll meet our fate. How does one end rifle fire? Do it in what fashion? How does one, in granite hearts, evoke sense of compassion? Why is it the poor still bear the burden of our greed? Why is it there’s many mouths that we have yet to feed? Even if we feed them all how do we ensure atrocities of yesterday will never forth occur? But then I stop and speculate over what it all is worth. What have I learned when times weren’t rough since arriving on this earth? There’s still so many questions. I’m lost in poignant swoon. I sit and fret for hours on end beneath the dismal moon.