Lost With Strophe

I am lost with Strophe. She is lost too. 
We suppose it is better to be lost together than alone.
Strophe possesses a nature that confuses the masses.
She encompasses a desire to bring intentions to action.
Strangely, she assigns isolation to singularity.
At the best of times, and for the particular, correctness satisfies her.
At the worst of times, Strophe feels misplaced, displaced.
People do not recognize the surmise is the demise. 

These days, her apostles are few.
Adrift in ambiguity, I do not know if we will ever be found.