Unrepentant

The question appears

Over and over

A litany of loneliness

Or would be

If I knew what that meant

Pretentions aside

This is a question I can’t answer

The meaning of life?

It well could be

The mysteries of the universe?

It certainly is one

As is the vessel

Of my ignorance

Philosophy? Theology?

Both have helped

To order thought

And quiet mind

But not the heart

So the question remains

Trapped in beauty

Surprising elegance

Wit beyond words

Mischief unmeasured

And cool, clear draughts

Of depths unplumbed

By anyone, I fear.

So this question

My query

My dumbfoundedness

Is constant and

Unremitting

Unrepentant

As, in all honesty

Am I.

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