Feckless and without warmth
We have grown to pretend to care
As a new species of man grows
From the septic pools of lies and deceit

Outwardly, we have grown not grotesque
But perfect.
Flawless and divine
Yet no light shines through our eyes anymore
Nothing more than hollow perfect creatures

We have perfected the art of deception
The art of pseudo compassion
Like the light of an angler
We draw in those
We only wish to consume

Surely, we have evolved
From bandits, highwaymen, and thieves
We have become licensed bandits
Licensed highwaymen
And licensed thieves

"All for the greater good"
We whisper to ourselves
Every night before we sleep
Hoping our dreams stop the pain
Hoping our dreams pause the fragility
Of our brittle compassion

We boast as love.