depression sets in
cyclical perpetuity prying
clawing at the prefrontal cortex
altruistic assertions abundantly articulated
aimlessly amid atmospheres of apathetic arrogance
the pittance of positive people
professing palpable parable
is repeatedly passed over
spurned, and disparaged
for the perverted purpose of pandering
to the plight of pathetically puerile opponents
to placate their pathological penchant
for proliferated pandemonium
the spirit of selflessness
and subsequent sanctuary is subjugated
by solipsistic sentiments
that seem to spread
like pestilence plaguing the soporific populace
seeking to appease
the silent sect of surrogate shamers
tiptoeing through the treacherous tumult
presaging tales of omnipresent fear
with foreboding and pale trepidation
all too typically trivialized
by tiresome talk of intolerant tripe
tailored to tantalize stolid thinkers
in triumphant tantrums of truant intellect
inflecting in facetious affectation
fostering false intent so toilsome
tempting my intrinsic inclination
to defect and deactivate
with the hope of abating this state of inundated hatred
bred into my head by the hordes
of men faceless whose faith
one can only surmise to be heedless
so, needless to say my dismay
is with relevant reason
enough to release this lost soul
into sempiternal egress
Max, or Not 
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