The difference

The 'world' is out of question, out of danger.
It has known a great deal.
Above all to spin,
to adorn itself with passage of things
adorning, with itself, each passing thing.
It feeds on much we love and loath,
much, in other words, we don't know :
'good' and 'foul' and
'fast' and 'more' are holes
in our begging-bowl.

We were in danger, we shall be
guided by self-surity
An eyed man doubts not his sight
Anyone breathing brags himself alive
Shielded in ambition, he is
ready to miss The ethereal arrow.
Would you, say, with goods galore,
kin more than many,
reckon yourself buried already?
Would I; quarrying outcome, fondling praise
or pearls of concord,
suspect myself lost?

'Our' world is in danger -
heartless doings, countless,
one atop another
in collective effort to fill bottomless pits
to tuck the abysses neat
and fringe bare existence with meaning
ankles to feet!

In the world voids brim
with ghostly stars, heavenly waters;
are rammed, poisoned, smothered too
and shall burst open soon,
consuming mean vertebral affairs whole.

The world abides dispassionate passion.
We don't.