I am but an insignificant speck, in this expanding, never ending universe                                    

My existence nothing more, than a good piss, into a vast ocean to disperse


My words, though at times austere, are not etched in granite stone                                             

Nor, come from a fiery bush, atop a mount; for you to then enthrone


My life, a gust of wind, like a forced fart; an odour, unable to whisk up dust

A mere annoyance, which a tempest force has spewed, in disgust


I can but dream, that any meager accomplishment, could have any meaning                                         

In this immense, never ending macrocosm; from which, I am still gleaning


I move no stars, heal no wounds, and erase no scars from this existence                            

A mere wretch, only scratching at the surface, trying to go the distance


But my will is strong, my faith, ingrained by loving virtuous ancestors

So I hope, that even a speck, will at some point, radiate, before it festers


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