A new poem

Do I know what action is?
Sometimes I say the answer's yes.
It's not true, just a presumptuous guess.
And I know it's wrong
Through every note of this song.
From each thought unhad,
Action silence-clad
So don't ask me if I know the way
When I'm taut with decisions
Fraught with revisions
Molded into the fray.

I didn't ask for this confusion,
I thought I've always had questions
But now those questions are absent,
I search and wonder if I've curiosity left.
A million reasons in every direction
I can't be bothered to spell them out,
Stretching far as I can decipher
The way is clear but it's so dark out.
Even still, moves so fluid,
A partial step so long to start
Momentum is strong the action ain't over,
Silence keeps flowing, one part, next part.

These actions continue, seen or not,
In quiet, cacophony, calm or storm.
With winds whistling harsh approval
Of time exploding, reducing form.
So the ripples leave me,
A shell of previous,
True or devious art
I lose the blue,
As nothing grows
Swallow my absence
Tender reaction
That nothing knows.
Way, not way,
Path unwound
Bitter tear I'm sick and tired
You've done your damage, be gone I ask.
Inaction is the same as action,
Priorities, really, that's the task.