Whispers from the Margins of Insanity

Every day I pass through the margins of insanity
on my way walking into hellish monotony,
Inside the dark hollows of
agonised shouts of profanity
I hear hushed whispers of enlightenment,
I see glimpses of flashing silver light,
An uncertainty of truth for all humanity.
Passers by neglect to stop and listen,
Instead marching on day after day into
Perfect structures of time and day and night,
Keeping the human thoughts out of sight,
Every day I see them turning into robotic nobodies,
vacant of personality and spiritual insight,
Their true purpose lost in authoritarian hands,
Tomorrow's freedom buried deeper in draining sands
of time and day and night,
Until the ultimate observer switches on heaven's light.

by Caroline Stokesberry