Inside this cavern of empty notion,
forever drawn by a mystery,
some landing point I might not reach
even in my wildest dreams,
surreal again, that visual desire
to know just why world events occur
with patterned philosophy.
When I do listen to the news,
a horrific shooting, some random loss,
a question of terror, simple reality removed,
certainly outside the realm of my own …
sheltered, safe, serenade.
If I were to take a bullet tomorrow, and lay dead on the street,
I would be like you, nameless, miles away, yet having an impact
on those nearby my side, those that once were, minutes before
postured, standing with me, smiling, laughing, living.
Yet now we lay alone, opposite worlds, similar outcome.
Then why is it that when life appears so remotely barren,
that depression wreak havoc upon our well-being,
suddenly allows all of the realities around us be forgotten.
How can love become such a shallow, low-grade fever.
Live for this moment with certainty and a delicious verve,
perhaps that onset of true compassion speaks to your serve.