the straightest path

these arcs of story are all in the game
what's not for sale has lost all worth
no one's been paid for burial or birth
truth's feet today are hobbled and lame
there's greatest eagerness to give blame
but of acceptance there's a great dearth
desire for better life must come to earth
still there is hope for this undying flame
pale blossoms lurk among the leaves
damp does not rise on days like this
heat makes the shadows deeply dark
not one who weeps and beauty grieves
the winds above us still don't hiss
while every arrow strikes its mark