a cosmic discipline on the snare

the laws of the galaxy never take a day off

every waking moment is spent beating away the old to make room for the unspectacular new

in a time of unquestionable doubt and existentialism tearing away at the fabrics of our well being

the cosmos stay firm in place within their mystery

never will understanding come from the rhythm as our bones wither under the weight of ‘why?’

no matter how meaningless you make yourself in an attempt to latch onto a piece of self-deprecating importance

we unwillingly always remain in time