How small we are
in the grand scheme of things
that is this life, this planet, this galaxy, this universe.
How primitive we are
mired and thwarted by barely perceivable chemical processes
that send shooting pains and pleasures
and all-consuming passions of all colors
up and down our spine
from the earth to the skies and back again.
A deer runs through the forest greens
and gazes upon a techno-emblazoned flower,
In this bittersweet life,
only the godforsaken is beautiful.
From chaos, we breed.