see the suns of distant worlds,
with teardrops in your hair,elate with wonderous joy the chance of going there
and think again of your world,overgrown or of a later sun toiling,to warm a barren stone.
think not of destructive acts or hide them in the crowd.
And take your place in the flock that grins and thinks aloud.
nor do you repay for your pitiful shallow sight
all not lost tho still not even right
Feel the quake of a dying heavenly sphere,nature goes without remorse ,impervious to fear.
with the deaths of reality and consciousness
until the end of time.
There lay askew ,the carcasses,Subtle and Sublime
And in his tomb goes man the lense and all refracted through,
entropy has its final meal of what belonged to me and you...