What was begun long ago
was always going to conclude.
I was almost impossible until I was,
and then I was inevitable.
Like anyone.  Like everyone.
What was begun long ago began
a sequence that ends in conclusion.
It is neither liberation nor exile,
but the incarnation of the inorganic
into a brief cycle of life.
I was simpler things
and then I became a more complex thing
for a time, before collapsing back into simple things.
Vulnerable in process, invincible in completion.