The Accident

It roamed through the mess.
It moved without rest.
Not knowing how long it had roamed.
It knew all there is to be known.

Nothing beyond reach.
It would fit no niche.
An existence with no meaning.
There can be no such thing.

It raised the Phoenix from the ashes.
A babe suffers thirty-nine lashes.
He said "You are mine to barter."
She said "You are not my master."

It is perfect. Is it good?
Do not ignore its need for food.
It is complete. Is it whole?
Something solid does not have holes.

Questions without answers,
might put you in danger.
But how can you trust,
someone who's a stranger?