Circularity

Which brings me back to
The unresolved question
For anyone with a delving mind:
What is my place in this pitiless world?
If not on the rostrum
Handing out dicta,
If not in the chorus
Lending my voice,
If not by the easel
Painting a picture . . .
Where should I stand?
What should I be?
I know the ultimate ultimatum,
That all is forgotten, that no one exists
Beyond the bier-bearers' tragic march,
And yet there is Shakespeare,
Yet Plato and Homer.
These mankind remembers, and many more;
But only as urns in memorial halls,
As ashes and echoes,
Their influence always in constant retreat.
My future as well, regardless of stature,
So why should I chase after cinders and shards?
Illogical cycle! and I'm caught within it--
A maddening serpent biting its tail.