Truly Finality Poem by Josiah Cresswell

For everyone, I think,
there began a time,
when purpose became scarce
and life seemed sublime.

Within that time, I think,
we all cried out,
scarcely believing that we never knew-
'What is this all about? '

And meaning seemed contrary to our perception of reality-
as it was,
vaguely undefined from the whole,
and senseless,
and sightless,
and emotionless,
and motion-lacking,
like the time keeping of originality's true purpose.

As if this was
Truly Finality.