The matter of things and how it came to be In the mere sight of the plight of a bee We grasp with the thought of thee Of how uncertainty became a plea
If I stand on earth, what shall my use be for? Answers to pleas, keys to the door Nothing is definite, like a shore Yet we continue to voice and roar
And thatβs the beauty of human nature The things we know are no sheer stranger Still, There is thus far greater than common scripture And the search for truth would be an adventure
Behold, the power of doubts arises and upholds It waits, in self, and for the world it unfolds And for the records of millions, it withholds The continuous and further truth-seeking in refolds