What is it you want

What is it you want

That we have not already given,

So many times before?

Do you come to sit in judgement

Never at peace with what you see,

Though the toll you demand

Has been paid,

Many times over.

Who are you to me?

When even as I live and die

You learn so little.

From all this life experience.

The possibility it brings

Just frittered away,

Like so much loose change,

Brass farthings.

Are we so many?

Nought but a single stem

In a field of corn,

Our worth so easily bartered

With the cost of our replacement.

Are you even there?

On the outside looking in,

Wrapped in a finely crafted cloak

Of impartiality.

Do you choose your side,

From the beginning,

Sit on the right shoulder

Or the left.

And whisper in the appropriate ear.

Do you exist at all,

Without us?

Are you not just the self made product

Of our own disdain

For silence.

The carping voice within us all.

Do you not hiss

At every missed opportunity.

Feed on the fruits

Of the very dissatisfaction

You have sown.

Every time a new born cries

Is it nothing but the herald

Of a new dawn dying.

Degeneration,

At the heart of the beginning.

The human race,

A beguiling journey,

Toward restitution.

Unless that too is an illusion,

A fools creation,

And as with so many

Imperfect dreams,

Doomed to fail.

When all things are developed

Through a prism of desperation,

When our demons are revealed,

Not as war and revolution,

But in a steady evolution,

Toward uncertainty,

When the only revelation is acceptance,

Through that lens,

We might then see,

The truth of what may be,

If there be a God

His words will lie in me.

Bring him forth,

I say.

Let us see his worth.

Is it not that he is we,

And we are truly,

He.