destinations

We all know these things.
They are written, deeply etched, in our moral codes
They are exhorted in our politicians' speeches
They are preached in our core religious teachings
They are part of who we are

Apparently, oh so saliently, we as well
(as unwell, as insane) are violent
madmen, intent on harm that ripples
back to harden hearts, unhumanize,
unharmonize what could have been,
our kind's innate, euphorious song.
We know these things, yet seem
to always get it wrong.
Is that how we're meant to be, to
behave, to twist ourselves in cycles
of depravity, of have/have nots,
commoners and kings, that we lose
our lives to battle?
None of this makes sense.
We know these things.

We pour them out in stories, poems,
murals, public meetings.
Perhaps such incessant ambiance leaves us
deaf to what everybody knows.

Perhaps succedent calls to outrage overtake
what reason, intuition, healing lore 
all attest will surely forge our better
destiny.