I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

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A Random Occurence

What once we celebrated as truth,
Today is nothing
But a random occurrence
Used by the devoted to measure
The distance to the apocalypse;
Though usually incorrectly determined
And remaining incalculable.
Belonging to this world of impermanence,
A sun of sorrow -
Illuminating charred remains
Of the once mighty citadel of hope;
Orbited by a moon of deception
On his unforgiving axis of mistrust -
Is daily worshipped.
Failing to comprehend their pessimism,
These devotees advance their reputation further,
Denouncing on the slightest vagary, any action
Which, to the improvement of the species, is undertaken.