“active” Is Beautiful Poem by Aiden Florence

Move and feel the energy fading constantly
Until you lose all hope,
Collapsing to the ground,
Like it would mean something,
Longing for inhabitants to notice,
How pointless enterprise can be

Now we meet again,
Engaging in inane dialogues of honor and antipathy,
Draining every last breath,
Hoping to grasp a purpose,
Realizing how resentful life would be
When motion was eliminated for you and me

Energy is beginning to fade,
Temperature is dropping there is no end
Our bodies are refusing to move
And we have less desire to live

Memory,
Canvas,
Dance Floor Revolution

Do we finally realize a purpose in this bitter rebirth?
Or how dreadful a canvas lacking activity is?