Desolation Bop
How vast is the mind
in all it surveys?
Humanity's blip can be
measured in days,
yet I hold hallowed
my meager plight
as I plummet blind
through this icy night.
With all prime focus
centered on me
as my reigning
identity
I quake confused
by all my eyes see.
Shall I be sequestered
in perpetuity?
My body buckles
with forces profound
since I find no hope
to orbit around
only more egos
that need to be stroked
waiting for my light
to get revoked.
Copyright © John Weber | Year Posted 2009
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