Perfect Contradiction

The perfect contradiction,
Is to be born only to eventually die,
We make theories or a prediction,
To find out the why?

Yet, that’s exactly what life is about,
We’re born to die, we sleep to wake,
A contradictory, continuous roundabout,
For no reason, for no sake,

Don’t meet this thought with resistance,
Only with a mind of liberation,
For no meaning in our existence,
Is the exact meaning of our creation,

We are absolutely everything,
We are the undefinable middle,
We are absolutely nothing,
A solvable, unsolvable riddle.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s