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Art Essay / Essays  / Perpetual Insignificance

Perpetual Insignificance

“A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” -Shakespeare

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Light pierced the hazing heat, Illuminating the scene below. In a circle the cult did stand, And did clap and clap and clap their hands, ‘Till the seeker finally was found. And as his eyes he closed, The rest swarmed forth like mice. And then their hole they found To cloak them from fierce green, Which only the glass of the feline’s eyes, With curtains drawn, Could keep inside. But up the shades did rise, Emitting light from eyes Fiercer than the sun above. And one hole short were they, And with one tiny squeak, A little white mouse gave his life away.

And as their play continued, Others sat in wonder At the wrath of nature’s venue. Through swarms and throngs they searched For that which for some has been lost since birth. Languishing through disease and malaise, Through time they strive to stay alive, But infected blood through their veins does flow. Yet moans screamed loud were silenced To the ears of those who played that game.

And through it all, A boy sat exposed. And in two shinning orbs the fear Resembled that of a tiger hunted deer, ‘Till suddenly an idea he took Of a place no Bengalian would ever look. And over the terrain did he flee, Through blackness and shadows, Until through the cracks he slipped, Slipped into a fearful land of security. Through the jungles the Bengal beast Did search. No eyes failed, Although the ambition did flail. And vanish did the beast To vanquish a different feast.

And while the tiger did gorge And the deer did cloak himself in darkness, The people’s stomachs did growl louder Than any beast’s roar. And in the ground and in the trees And all through nature did they hunt, But on hunger only did they feast.

Yet, while they lived with the thirst for food, The tiger became intoxicated with life, And visions of glory in the stag’s mind were planted. A mad dash made he To finish life victorious. But as he whooped and hollered The cult turned round to stare. Only confusion did emerge, For no recognition rested there. Forgotten had he been As all had continued without him.

But humiliation tolled so loud That the bombs hitting They never heard. And as the troops were deflected, A new game they elected. Men fell in waves upon waves upon waves. And as they bathed themselves in blood, Cries of victory and shrieks of defeat Rang out loud As women cried more rain than clouds.

And from the balcony Totality spared a fleeting glance At a small blue planet. Nothing wrong, nothing right, Nothing, Nothing, Nothing. And so the sashes were pulled And the curtains did fall. None saw the child victim: No longer ignorant But forever insignificant.

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