Life , History and ...all ours?

(I write for those whose voice is stilled or who cannot speak...(Peace crane 3))

My voice, my thoughts , all mine,yet for how long ...
For the voices stilled, for the thoughts bound,
Thoughts that find no anchor, that they just  are, wandering,
Bubbling  in  , untethered voice, with no vessel to place ,
Is this what all abuse costs,
    Some mute with thoughts bound,
    Fears just keep rekindling,
    For all ,dances with no end,
    Into act and react and all to dance again,
    Yet in others' constant embers burn,
    Stained memories that don't tether,
    Kynuerins and toxins accumulate,spills into words,
    Into a dance of steps, non-steps,missteps all,
    Bereft of rhythm, of music,
    All call it life, yet forget life it is not...
My rooms are  in disarray,
Reflects my mind , my brain..
Chaos the theme of the times
I am no artist , but I dance and call it life...
In the shadows bears prowl and snakes slither,
Shadow deeds go on endless, disdain its aura,
Their ilk knows to bind,endless
Knows that  dance, to humor all fears,
For one to survive, for life,it all remains the same...
   Through centuries, through generations,
    Them faltered steps never cease to amuse the powers,
   In despair, human souls, they crumple,yet shadows prowl, persists...
Rising from the sea with their shining marks,
We, the masses stare, adore even,
As our eyes burn holes into our brains,
   Leaning in, into "just fears",senseless and bound,
   Yes, we repeat and replay and call it always- history...
   They remain  a bit varied; we all act our parts,
  Yet again that replay  is but our lives...

(poem by pc3- 10/14/17)