Searching for the sunrays through the gray and balmy storm clouds.
Heavy is the weight of melancholy that hangs in the air, and is
intentioned to dampen my spirits. Overcast with swirls of blues and
whites that battle about in order to seize their intentioned plights.
But this dark and morose day does not have the power to snuff out
the hope which shines brightly upon my face. Because I am bent
on vigilance toward victory today, as I craftily fight my own battles.
But what a difficult prospect, to maintain a joy uninterrupted.
Especially when the throes of society appear to be corrupted.
For there are many casualties who are downcast by these
cumulus clouds, with sullen faces, and furrowed brows.
Whether bourgeoisie or proletariat, all are affected and have
chosen to carry it. And who among us has the power of
coercion which can arouse them in their decrepit state of
temperament? A heavy layered depression which builds
upon their shoulders like sediment. But rain or shine be
damned, for I choose to be a grand statement of vibrance
intentioned, despite the forecast's plans. Burning with
passion, I will not be deterred from my course, or shackled
with damning indifference, as if I lack a place of significance
in this world. But I have a role to play, and making humanity  
a better place to stay. Nothing less than a deuce ex machina
clothed in modern array. For yes life is hard, and mankind
suffers, and the preponderance of evil does not relent for a
moment. But so is the propensity for good, of those brave
souls who have the balls to make it so. And so, how do we
quantify the current state of World affairs? It is what you
make of it, and it's quality determined by your actions.