Mediocrity

Beware the sound in the darkness,

nearly imperceptible,

that raises our scalps with its pitchfork.

We know what lurks there

anxious to disembowel us.

We sense its sneaking predation,

see its shadow twitching intently,

hear it gathering intention under its feet,

feel its luminous green glare fixed on us

as we shrink back,

breath broken, pulse audible.

When it pounces,

sinks its teeth in,

shakes us senseless,

Do we fight ?

Witness sadly?

Or smile?

Is it a quick demise,

terrible and final?

Or do the newly paralyzed feel surprise?

Confusion? Anger?

Do we linger, limp and lost in remorse?

Or do we welcome insignificance,

unable to answer:

Do I matter?

Sybilla

6/3/08