Drawl and Wither

At peace, little soldier in my chest.
Keep moving forward, on this broken trail.
Seconds pass and no ground is made,
Only more ground to cover created.

I am a walking mistake,
A failure in a man’s shoes.
A destructive force in a man’s skin.
If only I could actually escape myself.

Parade around with your successes, your lousy filthy purchases
Float on, ablaze with your birthed riches.
The better-thans in their golden cities.
Who are born to scorn,
Feeding the depths of our self-consciousness.

We should have nothing to fear, you and I.
For we are the masters of our age,
But yet the Earth quakes
And all seems lost,
Will it all fall apart?
Or will I, somehow, learn to be necessary.