by obafs

All that we are, all that we have
Cannot amount to more than vanity
For our musings and queries and pondering
Our toil our labour our lot
Cannot cause the planets to fall out of order
Or cause the fires of heaven twinkling in the night sky
To lose a single candela
 
The celestial bodies move as cogs in their heavenly port
And the stars go on their marked path
We exist as a byproduct of the universal machine
Unintended and inconsequential, awaiting our end
In futulity we struggle against the current
The tide that sends all existence into the drain of vanity
With each breath-ladened stroke, we hope to stay beyond the drain.
 
Why?
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