The Reconstruction - Archivist

I have many arms

Snake-like they writhe

Tools of incision

Dissect and remake my tomb

I am elastic

I am malleable

Engines allude me

So I sutured and jury rigged

I have harnessed tachyons

Plucked from particle collisions

Farmed Planck’s fertile fields

Perforated time with precision

My thoughts are neatly packaged

Tied up with string theories

Delivered into the eons

The tenets of my gospel

I have answered every question;

I have cut my teeth on intention

Now lost forever man will never

Know what I have reasoned

Oh the humanity!

Prehensile plague

Your grip did once loosen

To find form in beauty

Your curiosity

Found pursuit

In the yearning feast of good deed

The act to stir the father

The act to show your worth

Did you find the mechanism?

Did you find your craftsman?

Was it out amongst the heavens

Is that where I find mine?

Is it where I find my god?

Is it worth dreaming of?

For two thousand years

The aimless pilgrimage

The search for a purpose

Were your prayers ever answered?

In the uncaring aching dark