Tragedies turn into arguments about semantics
Emptying the world of the humanity
That’s forged within
The loss of life boiled down to a statistic
So what does that tell the living?
That life’s not worth living
Why do I feel so empty?
Like a ghost,
With wind passing through my soul
Maybe because as I look around me
I see that hollowness reflected back
In a world populated with the living
Why does it feel so dead?