none see so clearly as the blinded saints

there is a sense of
calamitous indifference
floating through the
spheres of underlying
circumspect circumstance
a wavering dissociation
where nothing is as it
appears in the mirrored
lenses of dismissal
leeching lethargy from
the leaking heart valves
where maniacal longing
crashes headfirst into
a compression of insight
billions of disparate souls
blinking out in unity
leaving an imbalance in
the universal disdain as
star embers fill the sky
in the twilight of our
caustically chemical demise
following the hollowness
in heart palpitations
a constriction of anxieties
smothering serendipity into
a sanctimonious stain
in the absence of reason
a garish mockery of wit
sprawled over yellowed pages
parables of perilous plights
as yet unforeseen in the
blindpots divinity missed


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