Intelligent Design

Could it be intelligent design, That's granted me one tenth of a mind, Carbon based and part of a scheme, Made from star dust into machines.... Scaled us down so the tip of a pin, Looks so round we can't see the end, While being bound by a force that remains, Not a trace or a sound but yet it restrains... We see dawn as the universe folds, Then it's re-drawn like its written in code, So every sunset burns from within, Until it resets to re-begin... History seems to hint of a time, We may have served another kind, But once our purpose came to an end, We re-surfaced and became men... Now our makers want to be heirs, But there's a power that's higher than theirs, Even though they never grow old, They acknowledge we got a soul...