I find it all in vain

Bound to be a figment of God's imagination,
I search far and wide,
To mark my individuality in plain sight.
I am forced to humble my pursuits,
For I find that is what God thought was not the best for me.
In my disarray of thoughts,
I excuse myself of the deliberation
That happiness lies in exceeding someone's turmoil of an expectation.
What is left if all is known?
The reality of my misfortune,
Beating loudly, cascading away a hope.
I find myself entertaining time,
For it to reciprocate an ounce.
Death awaits me,
Is what I find myself thinking from time to time.
My shelter within its beloved wings,
Depriving me of the sight of the seen,
So that this mental disarray finds a home and leaves me alone.
Its depart I fear will leave me feeling abandoned,
For its bitterness is all I have known.