The Why, and any Future?

Perhaps everything is nothing,

So nothing can be explained

There is nothing to be contained,

Encapsulated or Divine.

Who can tell?

Who could ever tell, and so saying,

In that very telling ,

Give us a solution for The Why?

Well the chasm to that is deep,

Like as if it is a trough of time.

Or a furrow in the face of existence,

It is an incalculable truth,

Due to the size of the problem.

Any idea of an expansion serves to deceive,

Even the continuum.

If it ever were established to be mere spirit,

Nothing more would require proof.

Though the Attosecond which is longer

Than the thickness of Graphine,

Is itself but a quanta of a thought.

There is little more to doubt

Than the likelihood

Of the next breath.

To be continued?

Christopher Thompson

C2019 All rights reserved.

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