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Why?
Why?
Why am I here?
I cannot find the answer,
Maybe it is the truth that is lost,
Or not meant to be found,
To humble us,
As humanity should be,
We are but pawns in the universal order,
We are minimalistic characters in a cosmic plot,
Where is space?
Where in it are we located?
If there is space how come we cannot create it?
Questions with no answers,
No resolutions and no end,
Our minds conceive what we deem possible,
But the impossible is what created us,
We are imaginative but,
Thought is all in a closed box,
Made up of the possible outcomes,
Within a guideline, by our creator
Omniscient or all-powerful,
The world is one big question, and still,
We are but the perfect sentient life to be alive,
We are advanced, but primitive in a universal standard,
We are very young
