Tempo

Are the lives we lead
Even special
When work is our
Paramount goal?

Man’s arrogant means
Become worship
Of disappointments
Selling false hope

While making cash
That we need

Never questioning
Where it converges

With idolatry
Often accepted
By ones whose faith
Offers none,

After losing sleep
Over decades
Since missing days
Believed empty,

Feeling fantasy
Provides all reason
Grace endures
Beyond this point –

Now idling long
In such pain,

Pretending still
Nothing matters,

Though mounting bills
Pummel whimsy
Before these costs
Should add up.

Some heartbeats
Pulse for a dime
No God worth love
Would require,

Existing here
Lacking rhythm
But praying soon
They might cease,

Breaking cadence
Pleasure provides
Until harder jobs
Demand pacing
What tempos
Flesh will inherit
Seeking prominence
Dancing alone.

Remember,
Quiet disproves
Beguiling tunes
Faking promise
More vapid
Than loudest successes
Torment brings mouths
Singing those songs.

Music tells
How silence is grand,

So try real hard
To just listen.

That pacing
Remains too nervous
Playing ballads
Peace did forget.

  • J. Pigno

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