The tree of empathy

The tree of empathy is shrivelled
What is the fate of man
One who walks in an empty garden;
He whose feet crunch on the life expunged,
Is at the grave of hope’s demise
Beauty does reside even in the face of doom
Solitude lies before the courts of the heartless
Even order is welcomed to such a place

But let not the blue skies and yellow earth deceive you
Not even the flowing stream and the sturdy seats
The whip and the sword fall constantly in these halls
In these courts, they accomplish their callings
The eyes of justice have been pulled out
They have been tucked in a box inside a chest
And their use should never come to pass
For in this courts, only her scales are desired

I sit in these courts, shroud in its beauty
These falling leaves lack any scent
I detest that this famished tree be in this land
And so my blade I set at its root
And my objectivity, I doth profess
A man in romance with logic
Standing tall in the halls of Pompeii
And speaking the words that intrigue great debaters

Look not on the tree of empathy
It is fallen by the swords of the forthright
And the silence of the earth has cut its nourishment
Rather, let order be the bosom you lie on
And justice, the duvet that warms you
That when tears drown the hearts broken, justice may warm thee
And when drought catches the lonesome traveller, order may entertain

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