Mote

How easily we look past our own faults,
but see a hive in the doings and deeds
of other striving souls. Our plan to waltz
our way to Heaven's gate, will end in weeds.

The comforts we provide to evil things
will not be glossed, nor will our disregard
for brotherhood, ever gain us wings.
As sure as shit is stinky, that Way is barred.

Surely, you have noticed you're but a shell
where strength and courage arn't at their ease
to serve your wisdom well. Until you tell
the truth on you, you'll not elude your fleas.
There's way too much at stake to cheat one's fate.
The foul and wretched twists, must be made straight.