A FEVER ON A WINTER’S EVE (STARGAZING)

There is nothing to the truth

Reality is an illusion

cast on by the players, who strut and fret

by the puppet master’s brow: who we call God

he: the emperor: the universe: the heavens: the creator: the conqueror: the annihilator

Ragnarok

there is nothing but the stage, an arena to pit fools

against each other, meaningless as discarded laundry lists

pale dreams, visions of impossible futures guide each of their fists

we are nothing more than what we are, dust fashioned into tools

And so, we let the past fade away

like a setting star against a shard of space

an infinite vacuum of expunging radiation

like rippling waves of indignant human emotions

comes the greatest end to us the human race

as we remain silent

receptive, and accepting.

consigned to our fate.