The Certain Unknown

All that we call certain, certain Will fall down to the deepest level of the earth All we thought impossible will become reality And all we thought reality will be impossible For we can only live butnot love Feel but not sense Smell but not taste Lie but not be lied to Trespass but not trespassed upon Murder but not murdered What is it we call certain If all that is certain Is what is not certain? Do we know what lays before us? Know? No. Do we know what will become of us once our life is at end? Know? No. How is the light to end? How is the life to mend? How is this certainty to bend? Know? No. What are we to do If all is gone? When all is gone? When will all be gone? Will all ever be gone? Will it just go on? When will all be gone? Will we have forewarning? A signal? A sign? Or will all just just drift out of sight? Like the clouds in the sky? Or the waves in the sea? What is certain? Is certain what we know? Or what we believe? Know? No. All that is certain Is that all is uncertain. . . So very uncertain.