(FIC)tion in Consensus

Fickle are imaginary things made so real by a reality
Idly counting noncontiguous thumbs so
Finding friends dumbfounded by unfounded ground
Is no longer a guarantee for good
Forcing a primly pious people to hate innately leads to
Immolation among good men defending overly
Finally pineal preservation gives way to wonder how
Ideals so sound were swept away in far foreseen
It seems
Fighting a finality forced by those found too fickle
Isn't what anyone wanted.
Civility in secrecy seems the only
Inconspicuous solution
For persons seeking peace.
Isn't it

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