It’s the absolute endless certainty that we are but mere humble servants to uncertainty
Can you hear how clever I think I am, adopting the tone of deferential observerr?
Thinking that my superior intellect and masterful insight of my psyche lend me the credentials to believe I, and only I, navigate the intricacies of every corner of this maze
Did not I design it, dare not I travel its path?
At dusk and dawn when my conscious is, I believe, mine and mine alone
And during the moonlit hours of slumber, still I believe I am the astronomer of my rêves
I am the craftsman, I stride my orbit, confident of every curve and angle
Foolish, arrogant narrator that I am – of that the author is certain!