Terminal Philosophy

In a dying universe Beauty is abundant and full of variety - Specks of cosmic dust congregate In butterflies momentarily. Much more wonder, much more poetry Is in such a place than a stagnant one - A place where nothing arises, nothing ceases And existence flows eternally. But it comes at a price. The ugliest of universes is this, For all the beauty is mere Tantalus's bread - It vanishes the moment it is reached. So you play nice, Concealing a clenched fist Swallowing the rage against death For it's futile anyway.