A Philosophical Poem About the Psychological State of Our Society

Whichever is it that came before me?
Was it the end to justify my means
Or just a malady pretending?
I sense that a recovery is rising
Coming around the bend
Or has my hope again deceived me?

My time is very limited
So I make the most of my encounters
Observing first the slight of hand
Then citations of my honest peers
Judgment has become immune to me
As I now must use my sense of trust

There is nothing more I fear tonight
For me to undertake in cause
The darkness has engulfed my heart
And created fright where there was none
I am the descendant of my former self
What you see is a figment of your once fond hopes for me

Un-flattery is a term of endearment
Juxtaposed with love and riddled with ridicule
Only to be left in season...in touch with outer seams that burst
Words that have lost all meaning begin anew in infamy
Nothing that is believed is real, nothing that is perceived is believable
My words mingle in your head like a dancer caught on strings

Singeing meteoric craters and creating song
Devastation has a way with words today
Never once has this been so proverbial
Never once have I spoken truth
Utter devotion is a thing of beauty
Beholden to burdens of proof and decency
Where else has my mind left to go?

Distant places north of me abandoned
By fate and lack of family ties
Gun powder collects and sifts through an hourglass
Plagued by my riddles and camouflage of smiles
Didn't see the tides sweep in underfoot
Taking you out to see again
To believe in morals and decency once more

Last, I feel that the iron veins have plugged my heart
Startled it from its starting key and beat
As a child begging for scraps of candy canes and innocence
I floundered aimlessly in strife...
Opening sweet reserves to see me through the night
I was lost there and conceded to fear

Another forgotten cause sitting upon the shelf
Drawing in dust and molded years of neglect
Collecting stares and reluctant promises of being wiped clean
The slate...is...over due for its punishment
And the abandonment issues need to form
This time will be the first before the last
Holding true to the adage of Chickens laying eggs
And eggs laying without form...an author...a beginning

Laughter medicates my wounds
Wrapped tightly in a wedding negligee
Preparing for the funeral of Loneliness and Hurt
Salvaging what was left of Pride and Lust
Reaping what one sews into cloths of fancy attire
To listen, to pray, to desecrate, to hide themselves

Its very true that nothing is everything
Meaning nothing...but holding every bit of true
Weak knees never held more than a fickle plaything
Bent for kneeling on the broomsticks of sovereign gods
The Rapier comes soon for his crop of sunny delights
Spoiled from the plumpest vines grown with wrath
Grape seeds trickle along the alleyway
Winding down the sewer, being swept by bitter winds

Kindling readies itself for the coldest winter in years
Offering a retreat and dubious sacrifice for seasoned flesh
I remember well the honest days gazing into flames
Spiraling into form for the condescending tone of a child's dialogue
How convenient for the family tree-a decadent genealogy of will
Just pleading for attention to overcome the need to be...more
Becoming something it will never become...satiation has a will of its own

Sad but true and other phrases of pop culture lore
Creeping through the cactus spikes throbbing in my head
Dolby sounds pulsate as well, lending ear to my constant tears
Lending insult to injury, an adding machine of terror and rage
Of morals...again too soon to tell
What will they become...what virtue is above all else?

The virtue of creating virtue...
Well, that is something...
Preponderance of will...of force...of temperament

Allocation of mending fences
Tallying the cost of life for years to come
No surprises
No new Sunday dresses
Nothing...
Nihilist armies form and break down crutches
Nothing...
Is needed anymore
For the world that has it all...
Everything is nothing indeed