It is in the quiet melancholy of absurdity of nature,
That we can see the random design of the world,
The world man knows,
The world whole species knows,
Is a new world,
A created world,
By man,
For man,
Yet it is not built of man,
It is created of nature,
And man has delusionally believed
that it has separated from nature,
In the strange seeming acts of the world,
We see the world as if it must make sense to us,
But the beauty lies in the ineffability.
The world is not of the laws we impose on nature,
But the unknowable rules that nature has already
Enforced to all its denizens,
We are but a small part,
Lions will go, for mane and wear.
Dogs will change, in loyalty and love.
Birds will wither, of fog and waste.
Man will die, at war and festivals.
Only nature and nature alone
Remains.