I keep wondering,
“What’s my reason?”

Waking up
Sweated and nervous –

Staring at screens
Searching headlines
For the answer
Sleep never tells.

That quiet room
Filled with sun,

Like morning grief
Peeking gently,

Soon speaks how light
Subverts meaning
Through mocking days
Never bright –

Repeating lines
Gaining steam

Over two years now
Going missing

In a world so wrong
Even nightmares
Feel much more real
Than this work.

Why offer truths
Hardly seen,

Or expose some soul
Needing purpose

Through hollow words
On devices
Still held by hands
Losing grip?

For tomorrow
Another disease
Reserves its place
Beneath heaven,

While an idle God
Becomes restless
Destroying faith
Standing back –

Interfering
Only when dead,

Removing joy
Where defeated,

Finding worship
Merely deceitful
Since expression fuels
Empty prayers.

Yet history loops
Over symbols
These worried minds
Keep reciting
As poems warn
Of destruction
If art should end
Besides hope –

Watching apathy
Set me free,

Letting boredom
Indulge such hatred –

But allowing fear
Every silence,

Claiming arrogance
Triumphs all will.

• J. Pigno