Conscious

As a rigid person
My decision is as firm as a thousand year old tree’s root
Never move even on the biggest storm
That was what I thought before it came
Why is the truth and justice I stand for all this time become nothing when I encounter this?
Are all these unquestionable values as timid as ant before this Moral Gangster?
Why is the whole world so thoroughly corrupted by the few decayed years?
Even after the few thousand years of moral implant?
Does this means that one day one’s life could be exchanged with all this illusionary matters?
In the near future there might be a possibility that we can buy one’s honour.
Or maybe one’s soul?
Is living such a miserable thing that we have to give in to materials that we create to satisfy mens' pure desires?
Working our whole life just to acquire a bigger house, better car?
Since when have men turned into such lowly creatures?
Someone told me that to live is to be an honourable man
Not a materialistic slave.