No heroes in our shared mythology.
Few rights, much wrong, the gods have cursed this song
and yet, we sing it anyway. A plea:
atoning sins with volume ever strong.
Regrets weigh heavy, clinging vines of doubt
As kudzu, joining fear to fear to fear
‘Til all despairs are one – a mass without
A name or number, formless, vague, unclear.
We push against the weight; we watch for light,
and anthems, cool as water, soothe and calm.
In darkness, they are balm against the night.
We pause, and listen; yield, and yet- push on.
Solutions there are not to this our fate.
Abide, reside in solitude – and wait.