Quandary - The Last Felony

I still remember when it started

How do we fall asleep?

Unanswered, it kept me awake

Am I a series of reactions?

A constant domino effect from the big bang

Nothing lost

Nothing gained

Everything changes

Or have I been perverting my essence since birth

With every action I regret?

Is true self a labyrinthine course towards my metaphoric heart

Or rather the whole of my destiny’s design?

Or is the whole of myself a quest to balance these states?

Therefore, I’d be a quandary

A state of perplexity or doubt

But did an enigma lay dormant until unearthed

Or did the question create the state?

Crudely said: Is it my fault?

If the answer is that there is no answer

And the question will not die, what then?

How do they pass through life with (or without) these questions?

If it would, at least, block my reasoning at myself

For if I do not understand my mind

What is it worth trying to figure out the world?

Why do I still try?

And finally, I question the very basis of the crisis

Is this a lucid state?

And what if it’s all genetic…

Depression passed down, wires shorted out

Predisposed to think?

Predisposed to be sick?

Seems like this is the deepest it goes…

My own body, which I cannot trust

So no reasoning possible

I’m forever blocked at my first step…

And sometimes I’d rather stumble like the blind

The final level of questioning

Self-doubt leads to nihilism

No knowledge will ever be gained

But with silence comes questions

Unanswered, they keep me awake…