Truth is she's the goddess and the myst
Every single plot twist
Every vengeful fist
She is the all encompassing mother of creation
The source of all of your frustration
The train station, police man, "late-ing"
She's the one who tells you
And come find me.
I am everywhere but will you ever see all of me?
The Man gazes contently at Her everlasting beauty
He wonders if, truly, he will find every piece
But alas, it matters not - she's him, he's her
Infinity is nothing
Without a conscious observer.