Whether it was revelations of altruism,
or just an adage about a job done right,
Compulsion to help was inside us all.

Everyone had wanted the change,
but everyone put in their hand.
It was nothing like a swarm of bees.
Not so efficient was the machine of we.
We surfaced as mole rats bending hell
to stampede, into chaoses unforeseen.

Though there was a choreography,
intuitive checkpoints to gauge a leap,
a broad, but sole, direction to reach,
and a pedestal for hope, and faith,
we amounted to very little.

Each of us knew where was our place,
It was like a vision board in every mind;
Guided by desire in hard working days,
all too human was every empty plate.
Each of us knew where was our place,
but no one thought what fills the space.