Procrastination on the empty vessel

Roll over and over to take a breather

Is this dereliction of duty

To no throw a giant stick in the works?

To labour so rigidly,

Fleeing safe havens of natural beauty

Procrastination on the empty vessel

Toil to the bone so the machines roll on

Is this vague assumption

That a call to a halt will signal our untimely end?

To labour so rigidly, all the safe havens of natural

Beauty just merge into form

Not to be seen, tasted, touched or felt

We don't believe that we have the nerve

We can believe that refusal won't hurt

We don't believe much in... ourselves

Nil retribution on the empty vessel

Bracing ourselves as we smashed our routine

This feels like liberation

Or a call to a halt that signalled

Our untimely end (?)

To have laboured so rigidly,

Barred from safe havens of natural beauty.

We don't believe that we have the nerve

We can believe that refusal won't hurt

We don't believe much in... ourselves