Dare we be but overpopulated creatures
consumed in self-demise?
We've surrendered to old grey matter,
to the comfort of their lies.

Dare we stare too long at the sun,
dropping melted wax as warning
across the museum floor?
The light too unreal to un-see?

Dare we live under assumptions
turned to truth verbatim?
And, dare we forget our destination,
in our hurry to keep moving?