The Intangible on Trial

As a thing

As something you can hold

I do not exist.

I am but the whispers

The shouts

The shuffling of papers

This is my defense.

No, villain, have you not

Sent thousands to their deaths?

No, hero, but have you not redeemed

Many thousands more?

Are you not behind

The greatest tragedies and malices, 

Slipping through history 

No louder than a shadow?

Yes, but without you

Would there be any history

To lurk amongst?

And lo, do your good deeds not outweigh

Your misgivings?

Is this argument not flawed?

Are we not all under your influence

By sheer proximity of thought?

Order, order

The judge’s gavel bangs

An old ghost chuckles at the discourse


Oh how he must have loved you

What is the verdict?

One last question-

How sweet that vocal rise


I declare

That the defendant

Is not acquitted and

Is not convicted, for

To go without punishment,

It would be unjust, and yet

It would be a tragedy

To harm humanity’s greatest treasure