We're made of stardust

And random coincidence

Come here on a comet

Perhaps it was on purpose

Or else why we’re aimless

A vestige of our origin

Come back to haunt us

As our comeuppance

No matter

One way or the other

Why bother

It's immaterial

Spend your life wondering

You wouldn't be the first

Nor will you be the last

Countless have come to pass

So what if the answer

Is a question in itself

Suppose you are immaterial

Solely theoretical

Existent as in archival

Sensation no longer pleasure

Light and sound no more a measure

It all seemed a little shifty

When I took a stand

No point of reference

Far as I could tell

All by noneself

No single cell around

Why should there be

Only the universe