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Insignificance
I always seem to have a debate with myself about existence.
I am starting to believe its true meaning is insignificance.
we are small creatures in a created world.
Of a created space in created time.
Its really all just a lapse.
We thrive in a place
where logic and gravity govern all laws.
Look at the stars. as bright as they burn.
we only see a dim dotted sky.
The sky shows our history not our past.
We were made of dust and mystery.
We are born of light and darkness.
An explosive chemical reaction.
No wonder were so self destructive,
Our very existence is our biggest defect.
left with riddles of air and ideas.
We cannot put a price on our existence.
But to everyone's knowledge we are just a mere thought.
so my two cents is worth the same amount as life.
who thought of humans first?
why are we here? Why are we blessed with distress?
On unanswered questions. Turn to fear.
as we are more frightened than before
to turn the page opening a door to the future.
The sounds of the electrical surges in my brain.
wake me in the form of thunder.
as This pen is my lightning rod.
conducting my thoughts as it transforms onto page.
Thoughts become decipherable and desirable
as I thought of this place.
Is this how we were really made?
are we all just the chemical reactions
created by somebody brain.
if the universe is really the full potential of a mind
then our creator is mortal and can also make mistakes.
So please take me out of this small insightful place.
