the beautiful world

i am thinking about the world.

i am thinking about the beauty of the world,

how fragile such a thing is.

this world is beautiful; it was made beautiful

it was made to flourish with life

and it was made to let life flourish.

perhaps we, too,

were made to be beautiful.

and that is the tragedy of the world,

for we are no longer beautiful;

we are killers and monsters and soldiers and lonely broken hearts standing hand in hand,

reveling in how unbeautiful we have made the world.

breaking apart before the ugliness we've birthed of our ugly hearts.

it is not inherently evil to be human,

but humanity has within it an inherent evil.

and it is not each person waking up to their own day,

and yes, you may meet a friendly neighbor,

you may love a gentle soul,

you may help your friends through pain,

you may be a good person.

but the better you are, the more it hurts,

the more beautiful you are, the more the ugliness hurts.

because you know you cannot save it,

you love this world and you cannot save it,

because there is ugliness in your own human race,

and now the world is dying at their hands.

the world is beautiful,

oh, how it is beautiful,

and i will be remembering its beauty in its last moments,

and that is why it hurts more to be alive now than ever before,

because the world is dying and we can really, truly see it,

because beauty turns ugly at the hands of human hatred and we can see it,

because i love this world and i cannot save it and i can see this,

because once, at the inception of the universe,

there may have been one single world -- perhaps just one single world --

chosen for life,

for all of this beauty.

perhaps we're only the last,

and if we're lucky, we're only the first,

but maybe,

just maybe,

we are the only ones.

maybe this is all the life in the entire universe,

all the beauty is on this world,

and we have killed it because we cannot stand to be beautiful,

we want everything to be beautiful and yet we cannot stand to be beautiful.

and this is the only truth i know:

that the powerful and hateful are simply blind to beauty,

and if not for them, the world could have been beautiful.

we could have been beautiful.