We are many. We are one.
|Flailing through a sea of solitude,|
We hum to mollify the storm.
Discursive sounds of those bound to themselves
Asking, why? Thinking, how?
What logic clings to the wind?
By the skin of her fingernails, oh, she's blowing.
She feeds on destruction;
A balance provoked by cycle
Purging disaster and consuming artificial company
Everything will be alright.
Consolation is not an answer-A hurricane of turmoil that is experience
Waves Crash. We understand.
What am I? Who are we?
Just death on a funeral pyre
Life on a countdown
How redundant! How exciting!
We must take each second by the hand
Cross the capes
Swim the channels
and then evaporate.
Retribution is painting itself on the surface
He is an oil spill. Northern Lights.
Each of us a whale
With no relation to the fowl of the icy wilderness
or the tropical pescan rainbows
Just swimming into a pleasure that is the storm. Or a peaceful sky.
A lament of infinite indifference
Dead and alive; Ignorant and pacified
We need not know our brethren.This typhoon must teach us