Your Pandora's Box

You enjoy your pretentiousness,
drinking your sake for the world,
dreaming there is usefulness
in the act you give a twirl.
You laugh at the grind of others,
mocking their NASCAR lives,
watching them going in circles around one another,
the illusive pursuit of peace for which they strive.
You continue to drink your drink
in which you add your grenadine
as the syrup quickly sinks
and you realize nothing is what it means.
Your taste buds now sour
to your own condescension
as your quickly fading scour
gives way to an upcoming resignation.
This Pandora's box of hate,
the judgment you gladly play,
has come back to mock the fate
which upon you shall long stay.
You were so far lost
in the game, yet life of others
that you forgot and fought
the battles meant for another.
Now only emptiness resides
in a spirit and body so withered
as a destined cancer rides
your soul until you're finally splintered.