Too often I feel like a small sargasso: shallow, stagnant, & aimless.
|Elijah:||Doesn't society turn many people into teeny ponds instead of oceans?
Aren't we born for more?
|Ellesha:||I like to think we are responsible for our own destinies.|
|Andrei:||Yeah, but aren't you're overlooking zhe importance ah individual choice?|
|Soo:||Besides, ritteru ponds are easier to manipurate. If you want to kontroru someone, makku 'em feel smarru.|
|| On the macroscopic level, that's just a source of variance – and often not the most significant.
The system parameters mostly depend on factors beyond individual control.
floating in a sargasso of consciousness
adrift from any shore
slowly i churn amidst debris
caught in a flotsam between gulf streams
stagnant & coiled
among algal strings
a synthetic, rotting relic
of uprooted history
this wavering flotsam hides
more than meets the eyes –
within its clumps
sea horses dart
as tiny crabs defend territories
& fish blend with thick reeds
& hydras offer poison barbs
to passers by –
deep beneath this pageantry
is a dramatic change of scene:
beyond shards of sunlight
in waters cool & clean
iridescent creatures of the night
wait for morsels to snap