Sapience is a grim grind
it casts light upon this futile slog
pushed in anguish through the endless seconds
that despite themselves
end all too soon
To understand life
to comprehend this place
is a sick sorrow
sentience, a sad end
to a delightful evolutionary romp
Cast up on this rock
like a solitary sailor smashed against an atoll
alone, imprisoned by the violent neglect
of vast indifferent distances
so lonely is intelligence
we sing to plants
attempt to interpret whale calls
teach sign language to apes
clearly our cage has driven us mad
We complement ourselves with curses
so smart, so well thought out, so eloquent
when from day one we know the horrors
of education, but we learn to forget
that knowledge dies
like a field of flowers plowed under
for the construction of a library
where we will read, absorb, analyze and critique
where we will strive to become better people
always seeking truth
but we’ve always known the truth
humans are nature corrupted
even our lies reveal this truth
we are fallen, impure, incomplete
our fabrications tell us
we need redemption, purification, enlightenment
and for the attainment of these things
we must subsume our entire lives in the lies
the crowning insult of sapience is not to know this
but to lack the ability to do a thing about it
Midland Prose 