In an exchange[1]
Between two characters, the first said:
There’s a natural order to this world
and those who try to upend it
do not fair well.

The character continued –
this movement will never survive
if you join them you will be shunned,
at best you’ll survive as pariah; to be spat on
and beaten
at worst, lynched or crucified

To conclude, the first character asks:
And for what? For what?
No matter what you do
It will never amount to anything more
than a single drop
in a limitless ocean

The second character, wounded, responded nonetheless
saying simply:
But what is an ocean, but a multitude of drops.

Is this our fate?
Are we fated to toil
and struggle
our whole lives
to be but drops
in a vast
limitless ocean

I sat and thought about the ocean
It is so sad
a lonely place
its slow moving nature
pulled by forces unbeknown to it
sometimes gently
sometimes roughly
and I remembered
that the ocean is timeless

Are we bound to become drops
To join a sad, timeless ocean

I wonder if the soft waves
which wash the shores
are those sad drops
yearning to amount to something
pushing the ocean
to wash the world anew

or are they too outcasts
spat out

is the weeping ocean
the tired cries of those gentle drops
never finding rest
cursed to forever
be in movement

I remember that the ocean is timeless
and so is truth
one thing I know
is I will always be compelled to truth

and so perhaps it is irony
but I know no other home
so I must toil
and struggle
to be a drop
in the hope
of washing the world anew

for the ocean is my home.

[1] A scene from the movie Cloud Atlas