Malaise

There always is malaise,
The purpose goes, but the anger stays,
Everyone has their rage,
As we live on this earthly stage,
Maybe we have enough,
Everyone has it tough,
What if the center does not hold?
Will we do what to us is told?
We can make things far rougher,
We can make life far tougher,
Everyone thinks they are the master race,
When they reach for the moon,
They fall on their face,
Filled with dark and sticky mud,
That could one day turn red with blood.
Will we hang onto this malaise,
With anger spoken in every phrase?
What rough beast will we set loose,
If we stick our head into that noose?