Vibrant Contemplation

Alone I stand on a hilltop of vibrant contemplation...
a self-permissive flow moving inward, back.
Shifting perspectives offer banal cliche's to ponder, as in "Seasons of Change".
The exercise itself is self indulgent --
soliloquy given over to the folly of muse --
the point now indifferent to discovery...
yet, I'll take the pain to sacrifice the suffering!

Consume then the evidence of your own self castration, oh you Dorian Gray!
Lament the sup, yet dine delight,
for on the morrow illuminations fall upon us again, anew.
We digest what we're able.

Can I change the way they consume and conceptualize the world?
That sort of consumption brings only social indigestion.

Every one's dead now but us it seems...
gone to the horizon line of dreams.
So why shouldn't I offer change?
The world, the way, the wise are leaving anyway.
Setting sun across the way calls to each us all alike, my friend.

We know this though...
so linger, leave, and let loose the day...
or else I'll be here all alone in vibrant contemplation.