Of knowledge and excuses

Oh, dawn of my life!
How sweet your fluid lips ~  
underneath the sea, he dives,  
a seeker of decaying ships.  
  
To me, depths frighten my sorrows,  
they art a domain so dense,  
Neptune whirpools swallows  
but the volume remains immense.  
   
Afeard art the cats of water;  
they hiss, the fur doest bristle,  
the winter wind tears scatters,  
frosty snowflakes, whistl'd.  
   
But children art smileless,  
they art burden'd in solitude,  
f'r the mature art heartless  
and their birth's a prelude  
   
to lessons of past unlearnt,  
devoid of memories beliv'd,  
decayed mistakes did burn,  
meanteth to be; yet they hath lived.  
   
f'r ego is an 'alter' one  
of schizzophrenic lunacy anew;  
what's done hast been done.  
but not repeat 't? They art few.  
   
'T depends on the mindset.  
Crowds blame ilness and nature.  
Disasters art born in the net  
of chaotic ignorance, wrath and leisure.  
   
Responsibilities always aside.  
We abundant in barefoot advice!  
We bethink we knoweth but hide  
the real intent behind our lies.  
   
We art the very own  
ones that do believe in them,  
with vigorous haste we've shown,  
blindness, nev'r refrain'd our realm.  
   
Intelligence speaks not in vain.  
't just, it knoweth t's so futile.  
Fanatics would insist on pain,  
undercov'r between vitriol inutile.  
   
"Yo lo se mejor", se dice,  
Te la digo ~ la verdad ~  
Poder queren todos, yo quise  
codicia bajo fama sin seguridad."  
   
This is the tragedy of our Earth  
We all can act but prefer not to.  
Deceiving thyself always gives birth..  
But to what? Wars...? Desert..?  
You always knew but got to.