I am a slime in the mechanism,

slithering between existence,

known but unknown.

I am a void of feeling;

vacuum of humanity.

Decency floats by as an ethereal mist.

I am a belligerent haze of what was,

the gathered fog of years of confusion.

Known but unknown,

I am not and never was.

A fleeting glimpse of a thought

once caught in a dream.

Neither here nor there,

never in one place.

Found then misplaced,

discarded with the refuse of spent days,

lingering on as an acrid taste,

burning the tongues of the mute,

unspoken champions of freedom.

I am but never was.

Never to be.

Alone and decayed

amongst the weakened pillars of governments.

I am destroyed and rebuilt,

but never completed.

I am.


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