A poem for the dreaming cynic

I often wonder why

To no one in particle-(are)

Clues leading to 

(the ever elusive definition)

Of being hu(e)man.

Though not to be vague: I’ll re-iterate

These strange statements for plainness sake-

The reasons for which I question life, 

everlasting in its terminal state

The implied bastard child of spite and wonder!

A (life) of which we can never fully avenge or apprehend,

Even if light can bend and space fold-

Into itself, each variable of the lost

Spectrum – an ultraviolet triple knot, entrenching beings to our own self-righteousness.

A type of Egotistic vacuum spirit which we can never fully break free.