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Jun 2017
How dark the end was without stars, without tears,
Surrounded by meditation
In a vast sea of unexpressed fears
A sharing of thoughts in an unavoidable situation.
We waited as the universe contracted
Our thoughts in extremis extracted.

In the end we did not pray
Or wonder about our continued existence
No one had anything wise to say
In the inevitable, unchanging sequence.
There was nothing we could do as the earth
Broke apart, but accept oncoming death

It crushed us in a second,
Rent limbs, leaving only dust,
The sun imploded
The planets went bust
And no memory remained of our history
Our passing unnoticed, unscrutinised sophistry.

Our philosophies, science, churches,and mosques un-constructed
In the flickering retreating waves of relative time,
All hot air. Our great ancestors un-created
Like this unwritten unpublished rhyme.
Our shared un-lived existence
Without precedence or consequence.
Written by
Stanley Wilkin  greenwich
(greenwich)   
  452
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