I seek which surrounds me.
I run, yet the seeked runs faster than the mind.
Why is it I am to walk an un-walkable path,
A path that ends the beginning and begins the end.
Let be found in all of places,
That the search was only for confrontment,
When all was within, yet out of reach.
Let come what is searched and begin the end, and end the beginning.
Death, within itself.