Philosophical

Considering the youth dying during wartime I realize 
We aren't more deserving of life than any of them 
My conclusion is that this is not due to good fortune 
Neither do we do anything that the universe craves 
 
The illusion of a greater continuity is binding us 
To think of our lives as spans of great importance 
But life and this place in this moment is unique 
And fortune that is present makes for consistency 
 
The fallacy we make is to always try and find order 
Forgetting about the chaos that rules in each moment 
One plans and works toward seeing one's own family 
Losing the affair having come to pass in a car crash 
 
One has to watch some kind of atrocity rip it apart 
So this makes one think of one's own feeble complaints 
About this and that and what makes sense as opposed to 
The pure madness holding hands with the sanity of it

Illusionary Continuity