As I sit here writing this,
A cube of red substance sits on my arm.
The slippery, liquidy solid,
That came from dust and water.
The wondrous fluid that holds its shape.

The enigma that enraptured my and many other minds alike.
It wobbles, losing all sense of control and balance,
But somehow maintains to cling onto my arm.
So ambiguous, yet so trivial.
But is Life any different?