Dust

When I become what’s expected
My hinges will finally rust
My bones will settle and learn no more
Conformity comes before trust

For myself I found, seemingly with ease, I was wrong
I tried too long to live like wind
Wild and howling, refusing ruin

When really I’m the dust
Billowing and being blown about
No choice or call in the matter
And settling where I’m dropped
Swept up and minuscule

I follow rules set in stone
Like commandments meant only for peace
The basis of the fault in views instead
Words twisted and poisoned intentionally
No fault of the maker but of the made

The inequity of having a soul is that we are selfish
Selflessness a trait that must be mastered
However none bother with a thing so delicate
We fill the cracks and crevices instead
Jump when we are told to
And are satisfied with out an end

And so I’ll choose to satiate
The rudimentary cause of violence
Still and fragmented
A languid death
A requiem for silence.

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