I
There is a certain joy,
In the reign of entropy,
Where all that was wasn't,
And all comes from nothing.

Balance is chaos' mistress,
Pleasing him with her gifts,
A Scherezade,
Knowing she could be destroyed at any moment.

Destruction and creation,
What comes out of nothingness and somethingness,
Ripples in the fabric of space and time,
Obscuring what is next to come.

There is a certain joy,
In the reign of entropy,
And man serves it,
With fear and pleasure.

II
How ironic it is,
To drown in mercury.
The god of speed slowing you down,
In a dense silvery liquid.

He takes you to Pluto's kingdom,
As you are gilded in a silvery film,
All that is left,
Is the stain of carbon.

Would that last breath,
The moment that poets and scholars speak of,
Be nothing but an oxide,
A chemical footprint?

How ironic it is,
To drown in mercury,
To be born in biology,
But your legacy chemistry.


III

He dreams of successes,
Of the bounty of the sea.
That the water be his friend,
And give its bounty to him.

When the waves crash,
And all he can see is a grey wall,
He knows,
He belongs to his aquatic lover.

Ran's net is lifted,
And all the fisherman thinks,
Is how he may return to his origin,
His birthplace of a billion years.

He dreams of successes,
Of the bounty of the sea,
But his bounty isn't his fish or scallops,
It is the cold embrace of his home.