No guesses necessary t’ set this status quo to rest,
there’s nothing in the tank for running engines and
recharging batteries; - and yet the lowest ebb stills
inherent dissent - because, I quote, it isn’t dead - if
you don’t believe me put a hand where you’ll feel it
breathe, soft & regularly - just isn’t into the passion
of proselytising Saint, exorcising crimes of Masses
that confront it urbanely - yet again - & yet again
Tho they say never the twain shall meet it is a past
tense defeated by its own chimerical perplexity; I’d
be happier to compete were there a lot less onus it
hadn't already derailed, so I’ll stay this way; please
don’t applaud or rise to your feet, it wont matter as
the rules you intrigue nolonger fête this game
© 27 November 2016, I. D. Carswell
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