(Formerly titled "u.s.")
And Dignity took her long last breath; white knuckled hands around her throat…
False hope, for now…
The hours twirl around with speed, a new speed, not seen, nor felt before…
Fresh to one yet ancient in minds long perished,
If there was a day, an air indeed,
or even a week that passed with such speed,
I know it not, or have lost it.
Among the scattered notes it lies, cluttering the floor of my soul…
To gather up the lifeless body once so proud, ‘twould be inconceivable…
or purely undesirable…
A rustling of paper,
a day or a decade?
Have yet the scholars defined the mind?
she is gone.
Hope yet remains,
would resurrection be on hand?
It stands alone on the floor of scattered scribbles,
cluttered notes, and papers, and dreams…
Overworn with time but leaned on still,
The hand seems ever-present, ever tightening, ever eminent…
It leaves no room for the proud nor the righteous, nor the innocent…
Stripped of the ornaments and parts of the essentials,
packed neatly and tightly to be discarded to the stars…
in this century in a second over years…
her daughter Innocence, and her son Righteousness…
they have been flung from the skies to the mud.
So that the seekers may rule and be honored above those who have found?
Would such a funnel cloud of doom hang over only the head of one,
Is it not haunting every man and woman within the most basic thoughts of their mind?
Would billions deny themselves for the wish of a thousand?
The civilized exist…
but in what number?
and at what level?
Meant to be sharing and caring
yet doing everything for yourself,
under your own laws…
Does law have any meaning if it can be skewed any number of times,
even for the most detrimental of causes?
Or complete ignorance…
Yet hope clings to life,
it won’t mean a thing in time,
her memory wears thin.
She could be revived yet no action is taken where action is needed.
For that reason she died,
for that reason she rots.
Why isn’t everyone smiling?
An ignorant inquiry…
Told they were special, told they were angels,
only knowing to see from their own eyes…
or those which agree with or excite them.
It is their own world;
Billions "own" it…
so we are told time and time again.
The simple maths of self-destruction.
When only two children claim to both own a cookie there is no peace.
How so then is the world to be compromised to the multitudes of self-proclaimed kings and queens,
let alone the true ones?
Such is the anticipation,
the immersing fear and anxiety of what is to come after what has come…
The air of finality that is but also isn’t.
Contradicting yet agreed on being both the beginning and the end;
A sliver of God’s grandeur?
Infinite, incomprehensible, yet simple to accept.
Hope rises up to tend the grave of Dignity and her children.
Dignity shakes off the dust of death and breathes in her first breath in ages.
Her children still gone…
but she may reproduce again,
to fill part of the void
until a reunion…