THE DISQUIET OF THE PERFORMED DUTY

Blessed who, one morning,
Suddenly
Turns aside from the road he used to walk each day,
For years, until the irrevocable
District of duty.

So what made him digress:
The ineffective sameness of inertia,
Taedium vitae repeatedly ongoing like a merciless
Devastation, the dampened
Distance between morons and their prisons?
Did he unwittingly choose the least
Predictable, that’s to say, the fairest way?

Blessed he who one day decided to retrace his life
Until reaching one very unendorseable peace.