A Moment In Time

A MOMENT IN TIME.

What's another minute in life's timeless game.

Born to death we laugh in the face of our own pointless shame.

A contradiction to keep us seduced
by life's faithless predictions.

What's the point in a world gone insane, by its own self
delusions.

Am I just a name? Or do I play a crucial role in life's little game.

I am!

Yet I am not a figment of my own imagination.

Defined by the omnipresence of my conscience, I play the game, eye's
close and deft to to all the contradiction.

I ask her again.

Who am I? I ask her to explain.

But she is life and I am nothing in the grander scheme of her
domain, this is her performance and I am but an
actor, playing out the rules of my existence.

Perhaps she has no name, a figment of my own imagination? Me a restless spirit searching for a cure to life's condemnations.

To ask of her the question, put at rest my weary mind, is my soul
a thing of beauty, raised in death become divine?

What of life's crusade across the baron lands of time?

Born to death I cradle within the uncertainty of my fragile mind.

Seeking answers to questions that life herself may not define.

I searching my existence to answer who am I?

Perhaps only to be revealed, when in time
death comes me by.