{Feet tread with vague ambition}

Feet tread with vague ambition
Wailing free of a suited siphon
To channel the blue-flamed burning,
Bristling fuel-dump brain,
Crackling with an envy of broken rank.
Barren aim tills the earth,
But a conflict of separateness,
The dark discrepant plotting compass rings
As lunar circles with wide eyes seeking the moment
To break orbit and smash the globe,
In destruction finds completeness.
Ego, the smallest orb of all, trills oblivious to our light giving brother behind,
Who in truth permits this ray-bound sight.
Truth shall always lay behind us in blinding eternity
Meek silver threads in ethereal absence, fragile webs
The hand could only crush, a hidden tryst safe from us, unrealised.
It is on pain of joining dull constellations on arid earth,
That our single fear or lust for truth dissolves,
Which is why, when you look around you,
Feet still tread.