The Container
The Container
Against all dependable odds,
He steps forward
Having grown much impatient by the
Sluggish uncertainty pervading the voyagers
Scurrying forth toward
Certain death or sanctuary
Against his father’s will,
His mother’s whispers to The
Vigilant Apathetic,
His feet fail to remain obedient
Agitated by a ceaseless pounding
Of militia boots and ill-restricted bloodshed
Home is no longer home
His hesitation slips
He boards The Container
For the passengers on edge
The Aegean Acrobat puts on a show
His feats generate squeals and shrieks alike
The noxious caper hiding out in a sheet of darkness
Shuts hopeful eyes and helpless hands
Drowning lingering hopes
One by one
Finally, asylum
Face down and forgotten
The suffering, with no space to grieve
The sickly, left none to breathe
And he,
The voyager
Who sold Fear to Probability,
None left to believe.