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.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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