It is clear
we are obscure.
You can relax.
It is right to let it go-
and by the way,
you never had control
autonomously anyway.
Listen,
I know you hear
the same eerie prophecy,
drowned in echoed epiphanies,
or floating on fantasies
of everlasting
We Were Here
dwelling in fear
and drawing it out
by quarters
intones.
Why we comply-
we know not
everything was true.
All will pass
all the same
as though
blue were something
new-yet there is nothing
we can do
but witness.
We have the right
to remain silent
left behind an
afterthought
with guilt
by association
lurking alone
for the safety of Others.
Painting By Pompeo Molmenti (1819-1894), The Arrest of Filippo Calendario, 1874 (FineArtAmerica) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
