Poems Primarily Narrative (or not)

A Quandary

As I wander down life's lonely road,

my destination a whim of destiny,

archived memories pour through my mind

and are arrayed like photos before me.

Is this the sum of so many days,

contextual segments minuscule in contribution

to a greater purpose unrevealed

a purpose for which mortality lacks solution.

Why then the exquisite journey,

a salad of experience and dilemma

attending a prolongation of unrequited conviction.

What rationale for shouting out hosanna?

Will my passing through mark the universe

with an indelible epitaph of tribute

or instead become an inconsequential nonentity,

a flickering ember bereft of repute.

The memories fade, occurrences flare and die,

wasn't there supposed to be more? Did I misconstrue?

Is relevance only important to contribution?

How among billions can that possibly be true.

I wander now but not alone along the road of life

accompanied by an army heretofore unseen

of biological composites bearing eternity's hope

for the answer to... what did it mean?