Poor me, and in whose footsteps dare I tread

To find if Life is what it seems to be?

To wander every day in search of truth,

And end up more perplexed than yesterday.

I look into my mind, but cannot see

If I just happened, or was meant to be.

And yet I am.

But if I am that which I am,

How can I be?

What will my mind think when my body’s gone?

And will there be a universal void

To challenge these my thoughts?