Circumstantial Sadness

How much does the sadness

In this precious moment,

A crossroads between the

Undeniable hope that gives

Fragile structure to our ecstasy,

And the last breath that we will breathe,

Compare?

[            ]

Circumstantial sadness,

So easy to define, only fades

As each attempt to self-analyze

Washes away like eventide,

Forcing one left to understand loneliness

From that first screaming, covered

Still in mother's blood,

To the heart no longer able to

Facilitate this failing system,

Entropy that tiptoes

avec clickety-clickety heels

Atop the wooden floor

Shellacked with our species'

One universality, accumulating

Exponentially, showing its face

When one can't fight it away,

When one can't convince ourselves

Anymore, of the imaginary answers

We've all come to believe and

Kill each other over.

[            ]

Circumstantial sadness

Once again creeps up behind,

Tapping on the shoulder and

Whispering sweet memento mori,

Asking, not telling,

If the writer understands

There can be no revisions

Of such sentences already written,

No research to be done for what is to come,

Only one more path to carve ahead�"

Barring any "bare bodkin" which sits sharp

In commonality's sheath,

Fostering a message anyone can read,

Instructions as to one's quietus�"

That which can achieve its goal,

Or perhaps beckon the tapping finger

To bless with gentle allusion

That such strife bears but one effective medicine,

Which might be the only one

To leave the belly aching, or jubilant tears

Streaming, in a happy state,

Now furthest from such seriousness.