The human condition,
Riddled with flaws,
Has a single fault,
That outweighs them all.
The need to believe,
That life has a reason,
That our vane existence,
Is more that just passing with seasons.
But in fact we are mistaken,
With our need for this cause,
An impracticallity visible,
With perhaps just a short pause.
Because this is the greatest gift,
Ever given to man,
Our blessing to live,
With no prewritten plan.
To not have a purpose,
And accept it as fact,
Is freewill, and happiness indeed,
Forging your own track.
B