world on fire

Could've sworn last night the world stopped turning
But here we are, the sun insists
7 a.m. the world is burning
All I smell is this faint scent of oud on my wrist
8 a.m. morning coffee unusually bitter
Grief on the tongue that sugar can't fix
Got a lot to do today, says so right here on my list
9 a.m. and the world is burning
My manager wants me to organize some files
Looking at emails, sheets and docs, visions of bodies being burned reflected in my eyes
11 a.m. and the world is burning
They ask me how I'm doing to break the ice
I tell the truth but it gets them on edge
A simple "fine" would have sufficed
"But we worried about you! no
really!"
"Think you might need to take some time for your own, cause
It seems you may have inappropriately brought some of your conscience with you from home?!"
1 p.m. and the world is burning
I make another cup of coffee for the road
And wonder what butterfly flapped its wings that I may have a jacket in the cold
Could have been born just 200 miles further east
Friends wouldn't have called me a friend
Wouldn't stop the world cause it's burning
Or care this cup of coffee's worth if my life ends
2 p.m. and the world is burning
Family's heartbroken but calls me to tone it down
Please be careful! And know your place
Might not get to eat around these parts if you make a sound
Children shouldn't get shelled but you must traverse the eggshells and
Speak softly son, watch from the crowd
Cause anybody looking like you and loud will get attention and eventually...
3 p.m. and the world is burning
We're marching the streets
There's real love here
You can tell from the grief
It's been___days
Feels like it all falls on deaf ears
But "Freedom within reach"
This is knowledge not belief
6 p.m. and the world is burning
She texts me are you free
Well ain't that the question
I say I don't know but I could sure use the company
8 p.m. and the world is burning
But these dim lights, the jazz, they do soothe the soul
And the warmth of our bodies and the people swaying do make us feel even for a moment whole, but
Can we dance while we mourn?
Can you laugh while you weep?
Sacred and profane, blurred line growing ever so faint and weak, but
Who would pass upon a moment of solace?
Or dismiss this with the sound of someone else's dreams?
We talk for hours and hours till we're reminded
It was always God inside these mortal machines
And it's been a long night and all we wanted was to kiss
Then I see a name up on the wall behind her, hard to miss
Then I ask her who it is
And she tells me it's a martyr
Memory I chose to honor
Then I remember
12 a.m. the world's still burning
This superposition is strange
A love poem is still a love poem if blood spilled on the page
3 a.m. and the world's burning
Like billions I lie awake
I'm afraid and full of rage
Yet with so much clarity despite the haze
7 a.m. and the world is burning
I'm not up early, I'm up late
Wondering if they kill, the West pays
Then how many kids did they kill today?