Who are you, object of inanimate?
2022-10-01, post № 264
Who are you, object of inanimate,
is there an end you toil for?
I banished you, abhor you deeply,
you stoic gazer without regard:
The suffering unbearable, yet you not wince.
The purpose clouded, yet you not whisper.
The coast its clearest, yet you not walk.
Let way for light where you did funnel,
thy blackness shall no longer reign.
Brute strokes, starvation, exile lest
an ounce of guile does further seep.