Faint whispers pressed on my vertebrae.

Extinguishing civility that’s grounded in compromise.

Do I dare ask you again?

What is purpose?

The whip cracks-

Gleefully, shattering the moment.

Deny ye of such indulgences.

For we deserve not what is claimed to have been earned.

False prophets look upon me with closed eyes-

Wide open to the abyss of mediocrity.

Although much was expected, we all have settled in comfort,

of the known questionable truth.

Silently I scream: who is truly in control?

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