Holier Than Thou

I read
Those idle words
And pondered what had bred
The evil force which always herds
My peers to drunken pastures to be fed.

I know no other way to phrase the pain,
The anguished sting of staying tall
And watching paths of Cain
Consume them all,
Their bane.

I throw
My hands aloft,
And then this hope I sow
Must take root in the soil soft,
But flocks of greedy ravens keep in tow.

“Unfair,” the bitter voice inside me shouts,
“To have to keep the torment in.”
Decisions given clout
Should start within,
Not out.

For all the good it does or does not do,
While you roam 'round, I'm holier than you.