Grey Area Part 2: Unable To Remember

Drowning in the mainstream Pulled under By public pressure Living in shells of isolated connection Lighting up faces consumed with mild apprehension Emotions felt no greater Than they are expressed By the shaking of hands And pointing of fingers And the blameless worship on convenient altars Of reflections Of ourselves Or at least As we deem to be Observed By our peers Casting these moments At the feet Of those Who surround us And digest the memories We call sentimental and dear Unable to remember what is gone Only that it has been forgotten Times now known to be gone Foster great regret For they were not cherished Until looked back upon Even this known fate Will inevitably fade When hindsight is blinded By yesterday The only things that we see Are only things to be seen Constant attention they too demand Distrustful eyes invading our psyche Peering spies pouring over each person Prying into our most private possessions Sacred seclusion is sacrificed to secular ceremony Is the explorer defined by their ability to find home To seek familiar shores No longer among the chaos of a tumultuous sea No longer floating above a deep expanse Or is it willing to traverse the depth And acknowledging the necessity To disregard The chasm below For to contemplate the mystery beneath Would surely incite sheer terror Is it a confrontation of this horror that we record into legend Or are the heedless revered No longer ignorant And therefore paralyzed By the awareness now held Mouths unable to speak Eyes unable to witness This disturbing absence Confronting our horizons gaze Like desert sand That has been frozen Vacillating between A Capgras delusion Or accurate analysis of observation But what is this death For whatever will these thoughts produce But realizing the distance between existence And our best predicted outcome Thinking we will all be our own childhoods hero And enact our noble ideals only to discover A fluid transition between novel and precedent Is it because the world didn't reflect what we thought it would be Or did we fail the standards of our own youth Using comfort to justify our own moral relativism And insulate from inflexible inevitability But can this be pursued As we deem it so Are these the seeds we've sown Behold this hollow shell A once formidable mountain As it stood tall Revealing itself As only a feeble cave A countenance of fortitude Crumbled beneath its weight Into a vacuous interior Mysterious calderas of volcanoes past Birds of Kantian appeal Free fall from what they feel Aren't heights of hubris But smothering skies Landing in fields of Chesterton Not caring what is done To the fences all around They're arrogant lies Unable to remember why it's there Only that its purpose has been forgotten Unable to remember what is lost Only that it has been forgotten