Trivialities

The mote of dust
(this precious gift)
on which we drift
is fraught with lust

for selfish ends
(as it careens)
despite the means
or who pretends

they do no wrong,
(well don't we all?)
dismiss The Fall
to say we're strong

but that's an act
(a deadpan shtick)
to hide we're sick
and that's the fact

this role we play
(within the farce)
is so damn sparse
we're swept away.