Fugue

Purpose and clarity are submerged in a cacophony

masquerading as a state of Fugue ;

So it is we remember who we are ,

then we choose not to remember and then

choose not to choose what it was

we were supposed to remember ;

Gazing languidly into the apparent void ,

marvelling at a chaos that is simply

an Order we as yet have failed to comprehend ;

Discordant notes are part of a melody

we do not recognise and cannot hum along to ;

and the scribblings of idiots

are a treatise on their own mortality .

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