Dying for the Rest of Your Life

You’ll always be, although
You won’t always feel it.
The satisfaction in

Being able to say
You did this or that well,
Wholly arbitrary,

Will keep you occupied
And distracted, chasing
Your idea of the right

Way to live. All the while,
Past a certain turning,
Your body, your empire

Of tiny, compounded,
Mostly unaware lives,
Your vortex in the waves,

Will be slowly dying,
Sometimes pleasantly,
Sometimes not, right or not.