The Snowflakes Precision

The Snowflakes Precision What a cruel and un-compassionate fate you bequeath us A million years of the mediocre and paltry garnish of faith and hope Given for the consumption of these generations How uninspired and habitually in denial We have become The lost worlds of dreaming Left waiting For better times and in a better place Plied by consuming the majestic expectations Of living In the eternal wake of emptiness What an unloving and unforgiving creation We have come to exists within Full to the brim With uncompromising seconds And not even in the grandeur of nature’s scenic beauty Not in the snowflakes precision as it floats No Not unimagined complexity of form and chaos No not even in a perfect chord Does the merest or slightest of clues Become existent or reverberate to us a voice Which whispers to us of our truth We are bereft of guidance Untutored in this colossal magnitude and vacuum Between the myriad stars Tiny insignificant is this of our awareness A planet a world Part of an unending silence So alone and so self absorbed So material in the murderous evil We have done to each other So disunited in the dark reaches So solitary And yet we did not gather the family of man No not even to look after of ourselves