Self-Imposed Coma

Future children will live with questions seeming to have no answers.

Why must the breath above Nature’s hallowed ground
be suffocating Man’s sentience wanting only to live life,
not fear death?

Will the greens and blues of earth-gifts,

the technological and scientific energy of the tenacious
ever overcome the terrified populous?

Where has the quench of consciousness,
the taste for loving nourishment,
the sound of gleeful appreciation,
the smell of orange blossoms,
fresh turned soil,
unfettered touches of love,
gone to hide from raging leadership-procrastination?

The how, why, when and where
of death might become an innate inheritance,
a curse upon the essence of humankind,
a corrupted leadership that continues to ignore destruction
of the very position it holds so desperately in his market-motivated grip.

Fueled by an insidious loss of conscience,
flames of a misbegotten purpose
intensifies self-immolation,
adding more rancid-layering
to the smothering particulates of the silent-enemy’s spew.

Such is the nature and persuasion of our leader’s war...
with himself,

and we are the unmentioned enemy…

closing in on ineptitude.