99.9% Grasping

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Striving, reaching, trying to encase gelatinous substance,
Trying to reach that thing we call Earth,
Trying to reach that thing we call Humanity,
Whilst being sucked into the vast chaos of space.

We become one of the stars or a chunk of rock in that belt of debris,
We become the universe, to become a mere fragment of planetary chaos,
Which expands and contracts, meets in the middle,
To once again disperse through the blue black depths,
To the ever elusive fiction of a warm heart.

Your fingers are the net,
Catch that dexterous fish that you have no means of catching.
Give up now, your struggle is futile.
Give up now, and you give up your soul.

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