Response to Ecclesiastes

Happy Halloween!
this poem is not actually meant to slam poetry, just pride. :) i read a couple chapters in ecclesiastes this morning.

What is vanity, if not a word
Stuck flat to paper, neither seen nor heard?
Unbreathed, thus lifeless. Drifting disconnect--
Can't move nor move. What else did you expect?
Oh poet, loving sounds more than the voice
Of someone speaking all you planned to write,
Got garbled up by jealousy. Your choice:
To listen, let each syllable ignite
The dead-wood, brittle pride that stamps and swears
You are alone, unique, in all your cares,
That what you feel, adorned in metaphor
More wise, more beautiful--well, simply, more--
Or live in vain, self-soothing sentiment
Unknown to all but you, your audience.