Inscribed

I am inscribed in insignificance,
That is the place I hold, poor place holder,
Zero of awkward incapacities,
Rising on the wings of infinities

Much ado about nothing, just something
To fuss about to pass the time of day,
To pass the time of night, ascent to dream
But never recovering the burnt out stars

I’m content with my little not a lot
Assigned in me by chance and happenstance 
My testament need not bear feather’s weight
As it takes flight from me and chirps “goodbye”

Which, strange to say, can sound just like “hello”
Indistinguishable from fact of me