Am I a random switching of the brain cells?
Am I a function of chemical processes
Governed by simple laws of physics?
Am I fluke of determinism and probability?
Do I exist?

Why do I feel?
How do I feel?
Why I create?
Can you express me in a formula?
Or in a mathematical equation?
Can you reduce me to atoms?
Decompose me into quanta?

I suppose you can.
Burning and decay
Accomplishes this task exceptionally well,
Returning all that I am back to the Source
And destroying the unquantifiable “in-between”,
Which makes up my individuality.

If the devil is in the details
I must be the devil
For my details are
Immeasurable and inexplicable.

Did God create the devil
So he could have something to puzzle about?
Something out of control
And without explanation?

Am I the devil?
I lurk between the atoms,
I hide among the waves of light.
The matter is my host
But I am no part of it.
By disassembling you release me
Yet forever fail to understand my essence
For I am what defies all explanations.
I am God. I am the devil. I am life.