The Detective/Warning of the Detective/What he hears

(I)
The Detective
By Kyle Oakeson

He is one to listen in on the tales,
Which spread like wildfire through hills,
That no man ought to tread on, for fear, of death,

On these charred forsaken hills,
The Detective hears the news
And forms a perception of the troubles of the earth.

He has detected, he has the contemplation,
But what he’s found is so pathetic:
It’s a sad, mad, fake world.


(II)
Warning of the Detective.
By Kyle Oakeson

You might ask, what the detective hears
But I must tell you it’s more than you can stomach
It’s more than anyone should

Once you know, you can’t go back,
No matter how hard you try or want to,
We all wish we simply could.

The truth is, when you want to know,
You figure it out. And it hurts so bad,
That you’d wish you were an ignorant fool, instead of an informed idiot.


(III)
What he hears
By Kyle Oakeson

All around us now are troubles,
That no one can do anything about
Alone. And all odds seem against those who try.

Compassion is lost on earth,
Beauty has gone down with it.
Hope and faith have since died.

And what is there to show of it?
Tears. All they care about are tears.
They want us to cry, that’s the only thing.

(IV)
He hears more
By Kyle Oakeson

They want to be better than everyone else,
It wants us to cause our own torment.
It wants us to be selfish.

But the one thing the detective detected on this,
Is that everyone will go through it and fail,
And only a few will rise up and wish.

They are they who are strong,
Out of this world, but apart of it.
And of them they are but a handful.