All The Answers

by Jonathan Ojanpera

A man can ask so many questions
Prying, cutting, gutting  every one
His queries grow into vast webs
Finds not if truth or rest exists

He will brush the dust from old stones
Mine gold, elements, with fingernails
Frames his findings to sate the musings
Stripping his soul to the lining for more

What he fails to remember in this life
The questions without answers quite
The gods, the seer, the mystic won’t tell
Every answer comes with his last breath