Into the fabric of the universe
Disorder is sewn
with such intention

Stitched to the rim of the swelling cosmos
With the needlework
Of divine engines

By such order our eyes can be deceived
To see patterns
In undesigned design

The myths of divinely defined order
Built by engines
More human than divine

Our neatly organized world is a farce
On an empty stage
With all lines misread

But we speak each line more bold than the last
To hide the truth
And stave off our dread

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash