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?