Incompletion

I so thought it was possible
From my beginning to the end.
That was just an illusion
Driving me round the bend.

First, there've been no starts
Since the Big Bang exploded. 
If at all that was the beginning, 
That too just might be loaded. 

Second, i was born into a story 
That was far from new and green. 
Data got transferred to my head
Like an actor's script for a scene.

Third, i'm busy directing others 
To believe there's start and end, 
You're absolutely unique, i say, 
Write a story in 10 chapters, send. 

What did i think was possible?
It was an idea of Completion.
A career, journey, poem, match,
Life, my own ineffable creation.

I feel compassionate to me now,
My loose strings strew the floor,
I'm a looser organism, tiny bit wiser, 
Not just a one-off, a wee bit more.

I ain't a beginning, middle or end
Of some incoherent travelogue. 
What's out there is big and crazy, 
I'm a blob pretending as a blog. 

My eyes are the mirrors of craziness, 
My ears hear the echo of chaos. 
The strings all loose, the knots untied, 
They are not failures, but pathos. 

Having got that out the way, don't 
Say i can now do a fresh start! 
No starts in my line of thinking, 
Signing off with nothing to impart.