Newton's Second Law

I am currently an unstable object in motion--

a rock tossed and washed in a thundering ocean,

thrown by patience and pain in unequal measure,

an electron ring tied in tension by pressure and gravity,

spun endlessly in circles by ascension and depravity.

I toss in the nightly tides of blankets and brine,

fear storming walls bent on bending my mind

spent and spending small hopes like dimes on gumballs--

bright and colorful lies turned to flavorless grind.

I am subject to forces that are greater than I

don't full understand but that I fully deny:

Impetus.

Newtonian laws.

Draconian flaws.

Groaning of futility with probable cause against the gears of an unmoving sky spun endlessly in circles around a small globe with a losing defiance against these small truths:

We are vessels that grow weary.

Slowed by friction but fueled by fury.

Forces both subject to circulation and lassitude.

Love like air in the lungs, hate that heats the blood on our guns.

Short-term hormones,

and long-term hubris

providing foundation for Babel and pantheons.

All subject to moving mass.

An uncaring Chronos creating a compost out of the past

as a fertilizer for the future.

There is nothing new under the sun.

There is nothing that I can do, that hasn't already been done.