The cold, hard numbers
That our most established scientists
Now conceive

Whether astronomers or physicists,
Leave us with no other choice than to
Make peace with the fact that somebody;

Something out there has
Complete control over our every detail.
And as Sir David F. Attenborough

Would say when witnessing
Some incomprehensible horror of Nature:
One must let it take its course.

We ****, ****, laugh and cherish.
But do we?
There is more to Earth than her worst.

Perhaps we are left with the words of
New Agers, hippies and
Mushroom eaters in the end

To describe reality at last.
Or the poets. Lest we forget
The ******* poets.

A howl of the wolf in this eerie night
Reminds me that I'm not alone in my wood cabin;
Yet I lay myself on the cold wooden floor
While salty liquids drop from my eye.

It roll down to my lips and I taste the bitterness.
I'm in my nightgown waiting for my heart to fix itself;
Yet it waits for you to come as the moon wans over again.