The instincts of life's being
Faceless and nameless
Creates an organism
Unaccountable, unknown
But intellect can be hewn
Productive or destructive
A buffer to the individual
A coincidence swarming
The conscious of one
Lies concealed in the many
A ballet of action, of song
In a scheme of magnitude
The herd travels mindless
Unaccountable for its mass
All in its path are trampled
Conscious lies in the dust
Consider group thought unjust
That acts on spontaneous emotion
Absolved by conformity unnamed
Transgressions left unjudged