Fall Short: The Sent and those Sought

When the blind try walking in circles
Skill by repetition is lost
Through propaganda and hurdles
Power overrides cost
In this place where some words are spoken
Certain others are not
Suits with free will to soak in
Blue collar dreams left to rot
Worshiping colors and numbers
Not resting ever till peace
Day by day becoming no humbler
Feeling like less than the least
Striving to make up for failure
Achieving by power of man
Trying and trying to trail her
The dream that they've built in the sand
Taking in breathe when we need
Neglecting its gift elsewhere always
Pushed by passion of greed
While slowly our soft hearts decay
Never once sharing the answers
Of questions 'unasked' or 'unheard'
Telling those lost in themselves
That they're lacking all aim, so absurd
The dilemma presents itself here
In a solely success driven nation
As those sent to save save themselves
So this body's dead cells find inflation
A single undead working cell
I cry out I call to the remnants
Don't you want to escape fires of hell?
Don't you want to give them that chance?
I do. And here I make my final choice
To grant them theirs with the cry of my voice