And the whims of the undermind impart a law;
Governance rigid, and in restless complacence
We remain in knowing, but wanting more;
A release from our own makeup.

And the bloodiest wars we wage on our own;
Casualties amassed to lost peace of mind.
Or perhaps we desert our timeless fight
And escape to the places that may subdue
Our ego-rattled bind.

Ne'er dormant shall lie the critical mind, of
The fights it must have to survive.
For surely to not fight must mean to die
And settle into a life refined.

We look out onto masses who've lived and left
The breathing to remain unkind,
And such comfort we find in the age-old lie
That we depart in peace of mind.
For who could persist to combat the
Inconsistencies that lay in this mirror of mine,
Knowing that we will never achieve a whole end;
Tied neatly in elegant twine.