Intricate Self

The complexities

of the Universe are endless.

The limitless God of the Galaxies

knows no bounds.

My thoughts, my words, my actions,

my emotions, my body.

One complex creation,

the intricacies of my being

having no true end,

and my beginning keeping

clockwork with the master planner.

The future is a mysterious being,

promising at best, ominous at worst.

Being a creature of habit in the

midst of this is near impossible,

because the flow of time,

to the intricacies of this world,

keep a life of stability at bay.

But was I truly alive

before this discovery?

Or was I merely living to die?

Although to die unto oneself,

was the only way to find my life.