Endless grappling with fundamental questions of human existence: A poem

Endless grappling with fundamental questions of human existence: A poem

The endless why, it haunts my weary head,

A question mark deep within my soul.

I turn it round, in shadows of the dead,

And find no answer to make me whole.

What aim holds my fleeting, fragile frame?

What meaning lies in sunshine and in rain?

I chase the truth, a phantom in the mist,

Perhaps the question is the vital tryst.

The endless why, it spins within my head,

A wee world of doubt 'n shady thought.

Where did I come from? Where being led?

A question asked, a lesson never taught.

The universe, a mystery to bear 'n remind

And purpose lost, I struggle to then find.

So let the questions linger, deep and vast,

And find the beauty in what's meant to last.