In the endEverything is stripped away.
All our preconceptions,
All our illusions,
All our youthful beauty,
Our grandparents,
Our parents,
Our faculties,
And then finally our own lives.
I can’t help but feel ashamed
When I wonder what it’s all for,
As if that is an unreasonable question
Or the sign of a depressed man.
But if you thought I was
Fragile, trapped, in need of medicine,
You don't really know who I am.
Shaking,
I dare ask the tough questions
That make well-adjusted and healthy people
Distinctly uncomfortable.
There are some questions
We are not to ask
Lest we expose our vulnerability.
There are some memories
Best left untouched
Lest their heat burns the very mind
That stores them.
There are some truths
Best not spoken of
Lest we should be labeled
Inciters.
My name is Inciter.
