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After long
enough, he finds
that trust seems to be synonymous
with suicide.

Still, he can never be sure.

Even his mind betrays,
and if he cannot trust
himself, how can he trust
his trust in anything else?

Any approximation
to certainty is a red flag,
then, surefire indication
he must be deceiving
himself again.

There is no solid
ground to be found,
after all,
just island after island
of quicksand.

Only lies can be identified.
Truth remains forever elusive.

So damned afraid
of being wrong,
with more than sufficient
experience to justify
the concern.

If he can never
know for certain,
will he ever learn
anything but suspicion

on a lonely, insipid,
dizzying mission
that could only end
by his declaration of forfeit?


2 responses to “Groundless.

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