Untitled

I search these passages, but for what
I look at the Eternal yet I am blind
What in my searches do I hope to find
I am stricken with death, plagued with disbelief
It is a cure that I long for
It is that cure that I deplore
Despite, I march with my heart foward
Despite, I open my mind to the light
Despite, I step on the world
One hand grasping it, one hand reaching for the Eternal
When will strength build in my fingers?
When will I be able to say that the Unseen is what lingers?
Nothing more, nothing else
Only I, a narcissistic being, am what exists
As once said 'What is the known without the Unknown?"
Soon my being will die to new state
and the Unknown will be all that is known