We live, yet we do not understand reality.
Why do children starve?
Why do women sell their bodies to strangers?
Why do men ignite wars in the name of peace?
Who writes the rules that shape our suffering?
We inhabit a world that often feels merciless,
as if governed by fractured minds
granted authority over what we call reality.
Few realize that nothing truly belongs to us —
we are not the owners of the ground we stand on.
And even when those dark minds leave this world,
others arrive in their place,
equally distorted,
sometimes even more so,
continuing what feels like an inherited task:
the slow erosion of what could have been lived in joy—
our lives,
the purity of water, air, and food,
and the fragile abundance of nature itself.
It begins to seem as if everything is already decided,
as if the world has fallen into a logic we cannot reverse.
We try to understand,
but understanding does not grant control.
The rules are rigid,
impersonal, absolute;
and we stand within them —
aware, yet powerless,
small against structures we did not design.
The burden of awareness is
seeing clearly and feeling deeply
the weight of a reality
that cannot be changed.
