i fear

that i will never understand from what authority –

you disallow?

how ludicrous –

the signs you post –

inscribed with such callous – un-intent!

sad,

it must be –

unable to respond –

responsible to guilt –

imprisoned inside a tomb – of should…

and while your hope floats away,

upon a breeze of – nonchalance –

my – could –

remains captive –

bound by chains unseen –

victim to your abrupt,

yet rehearsed,

abandon!

indiscriminate -
obtrusive -
the frustration of a reality unintended.
what purpose creation -
ownership of concept -
if allowed to be flawed?


to try to understand the purpose of life without accepting the eventuality of death is frivolous - fictitious.
what would define hope if everything imagined was real -
tangible?
what reason would there be for faith in a world lacking supposition?

so often we raise our voice -
scream callous denigration's -
to anyone that deviates from our predetermined paradigms of socially accepted behavior. and if our articulation of doctrine fails to assuage the masses,
we reach into our arsenal of jurisprudence -
recite with zealous intent retributions from apocrypha's of self-assumed conviction...

in the end -
judgment.

regardless action without faith -
faith without action -
submission to the author of creation stands paramount to absolution.

and yet i see you standing there -
self-imposed elevation -
placing accoutrements of irrelevance on the scale of (un)belief...

we wear our coats of like.
dust off our eager shoes -
step into the arena of ego.
impatiently aware of how we look in the mirror of our suppose.

with disregard for others want,
we impose our need-to-be.
consideration -
program from the pageant of youth -
crumpled,
thrown out the window.


how quickly we become -
undone;
companion to indifference.
no compromise.
no regret.
determined to win the race -
regardless the casualties.


and even now -
with sunset inviting darkness,
we light one more candle.
no time for rest.
insatiable -
our appetite for admiration.


just one more round of applause.
one more like -
clicked on sad page of immaterial.
and recklessly -
with impetuous abandon -
we (without knowing) write epitaphs of discontent -
chiseled in stone (alone).


our un-intention -
our demise.
and from this dreamless sleep,
no waking...