It is supposedly the last day of a goat’s horn-
growing inquisition, of barbed flechettes with
quirked conscience despair - an atmosphere
of incredulity pervading where reason slides
sideways - there’s no certainty aired why an
on-going sense of tooth-bared acrimony still
vends worst-case obduracy, or expectations
adjudged denouement could ever be fair
But we are still intact and agreed to see it in
the best possible light, in-battle hasn’t been
a fight for commonwealth & justice - there’s
no noble aim in an egocentric murkiness of
primacy’s clime & yet the end justifies what
freedom from uncertainty tragically means
© 1 November 2014, I. D. Carswell
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