Madness

There's a lot to life that's going down
Most of which would make us drown
Spiralling we fall into feared reality
Even something small wont let us be.

We mask our fears, we hide, we stay
Away from problems we're told to face
We gain our rhythm, living in mundane
Waiting for it to end, so we can mend.

Work turned into a productivity chase
If we'd woken up done this and that,
And if we kept up not to lose the race
Will we be validated just the same?

Is this really all of it? This strife, too
Monotonous for an unknown afterlife.
Don't you think this fight to be heard is
just a product of superfluous madness?