We are all getting old now, the footrace is nearly done.
I don’t believe it was a fair race and no-one really won.
Are we here to gather wisdom or just to gather hay?
Maybe it’s an accident and we need to die each day.
Of all the wisdom I was given or managed to glean,
Of all the knowledge that I possess, of those places I have seen,
The one thought that comforts me,
Is that God exists in the Mind of Man,
A Noble place to dwell,
Take care for you are the dwelling place of God.
To live a free life we cannot know the purpose,
Because if we knew the reason we would be enslaved by it.
That leaves us staring at the starry night sky,
Knowing we have no purpose, it is all a lie.