The Law/Politics of Diminished Return

At the point of revelation

Of a super-personal-customization

Of population control

I feel it, I know it

I wonder

Will it roll from bottle, will it break bone?

Will it call attention with night shredding light?

Will it slug along, razor sharp, in warm water?

Or tranquilly, slowly, breathing alone?

Will it be on impulse? Just too much content of cupped hands?

Will I care if anyone knows? Or understands why?

Is it important to express, just how casually, one can decide to…

Bitter pill

Rehearsed drill

Do your lack

Of free will

I feel it, I know it

Will one day render all frozen

To a halt, to blackness

To the end of mind…

And at last

Until nothing exists, to you, to leave behind.