Threading through this life begrudgingly,
Step by step by moment of experience.
As we approach the limit of existence endlessly,
Climbing ever closer to the summit restlessly,
For no good reason, other than to be,
A pattern in the fabric of reality,
Resonating at a frequency eternally,
Reverberating through the eons cyclically.

Trough to peak to coveted transcendence,
We stand corrected, humbled by the tragic irony.
Peak to trough to horror of facticity,
Recursions of self-reference within a wavelength of a speck of dust...
Known to us as the universe.