So About That Searching Thing...

Finding the universe that exists underneath the mynute
No joy in the simplistic I'm seeking the extravagant
Inside of the materialistic I yearn for overwhelming enthusiasm
Will I find something that creates an expression of enthrallment?
Does meaning in existence reside in the creations of the created?
I regret that so much of my fulfillment is found in the natural
The common mans charms are what bring me luck
But is there anything past the veil of over spiritualization?
Starring at the sun and wondering how,
How I can find beauty in the things not crafted in the hands of eternity
It seems like I'm wasting life by trying to live someone elses
Some find pleasure in the odd
Others in the flesh
Still some in the elementary
Yet I find that none of these things are for me
So what is for me without minimizing the things that are me?
Does a door to a distant dimension need to be opened
In order that I find what I enjoy as a parallel to the current constant?
I'm waiting to be shown and I don't know where to look
Beginning no where because I hold clues like blank cards
What we do defines us and I don't do anything
Defined by nothing, is this what I am predestined for?
Flat-lining on the existential and not on the arbitrary
Making a man from the mind of a man is harder when you don't believe
Faith is not the potion when you've broken down all the clay
I'm in need of a reformation consisting of the ingredients of the stars
All in order to stand out and shine like the brilliant one I want to be
No longer blind just without a leg to stand on
Who do I seek to know how I am defined?
Maybe my lot is to never know
And at the rate that I'm going part of me thinks that's just fine