It Is What It Is Poem by Lilith Van'Nightinveil

In shadows deep, where apathy finds rest,
Resides a folk, content in their dismay,
With tranquil hearts, they watch their world decay,
Accepting flames that ravage, uncompressed.

For in their eyes, the fire's blaze seems tame,
Its flickering dance a familiar sight,
No longer sparking dread in darkest night,
But rather, whispers softly, 'It's the same.'

'It is what it is, ' their mantra chants,
A resignation veiled in quiet sighs,
As embers glow and smoke begins to rise,
They linger still, in silent, subtle dance.

Yet in this stillness lies a silent scream,
For complacency fuels the endless dream.