The poem we all live
Your universe ends with you.
There is no need to live forever to see it.
A train of thought, an avenue of simplicity
leads to an inevitable conclusion.
If I live forever, I’ll see the stars burn out
and the black holes will drift away.
But in death, when your eyes are open for the final time,
do you not see darkness within darkness, all the same?
I heard a man once say death isn’t beautiful
or poetic or magical or needed.
But, if your universe doesn’t end
then it shouldn’t have begun.
Only in the end
can I appreciate the beginning.
I enjoy the ride more because
I know the car will stop one day.
We drive by a pretty countryside
and the ocean is amazingly cool blue.
The air is warm, and the breeze relaxes me
as my hand rides the wave of the speeding wind.
The car doors open and close when others join the ride
but don’t forget you get off alone.
I look up at the stars and watch them flicker out.
Eventually only one is left.
I’ll close my eyes for the final time
and push my final breath out with a scream.
I won’t wait for death to come for me silently,
but rage against the dying of the light.