Are We Through

The humming of the heater
the snap and the crack
all the visionaries
are catching Z's in the sack.

 
Bald men contemplating
and there's no turning back
eyes peirced with consternation
there's no space for slack.

 
Even in the smaller regions
where there seems to be some space
not occupied by any bodies
but that must not be the case.

 
The perception of the perceiver
The taste and the touch
and all those that smelled and heard
had no idea of so much.

 
Confused men off in training
Awaiting the next attack
Hearts pound to a chaotic rhythm
and they bleed red not black

 
Even among the cold and stoic
who seem to care much less
than all of those who speak of glory
the ability to try we possess.

 
Is it just me?
Is it just you?
Is it some
or more than a few?
Have we gone
or have we come?
Are we just starting
or are we through?

 
The cunning of the cheater
the eyes of the blind
all of the lost fortune
desperate men yearn to find.

 
The scholars are attending
the lectures on the truth
men in suits and golden watches
who traded in their youth.

 
And even when the pool is full
it sure is nice below
touching basewith the  very place
that all things go...

 
The belief of the believer
the hope and the show
foundations of such a stalwart nature
shrink as they grow.

 
Personal digression
in what seems a harvest year
hearts bent for the love of mankind
all the while beating in fear.

 
And even though
the trunk still grows
deeper into the sand
it won't grow the leaves
that bring water to this land.

 
Is it just me?
Is it just you?
Is it just some
or is it more than a few?
Are we gone
Or have we come?
Are we just starting
or are we through?