Imagine you met God after your end
You bowed in reflex 'cause the prophets did
You crawled to His toe like a loyal dog
But, when you look up into His eyes
You can't see any praise
Only twisted face of shame.

We become soil and ash
We all do, decompose in the east
If my knees can’t carry me up the hills
If the millipedes can’t have a feast

back in time  to the stranger-danger eighties
  when you could really taste the concrete
and the end of the world really meant it
  (or that's what it felt like anyway)

Fallen cherry blooms,
Sticks to my wet skin like grief,
Brief and hard to hold.

As I sit here
Staring at the submit button
I think of the times that I couldn't even
Start
A wave of emotion overcomes me
As I remember where
I once
Started
The clock ticks midnight
The link
Closes
And I am left
In a confused state
Of nostalgia for what once
Was

We thought the machines, the extraterrestrials or even the gods themselves would come down and stop us.
We had it seemingly coded within us, thinking there was some hard boundary that we would not be allowed to cross.

But no one came.
There was no one to stop us.
No one to contain our endless ambition.
The universe had no natural mechanism to contain such an intelligent virus, and indeed that is what we are.

From world to world galaxy to galaxy we leapt,
ever quicker ever more hungry.
We became all the things that our ancient fantasies and fictions
told us we would fight.
We became the machines, we became the extraterrestrials
and even greater than the gods themselves,
whom we gave up trying to find eons ago.

We knew now that anyone in existence who dreamed of gods, dreamed ever so dimly of us. Or they would,
if there was anything left that could dream.
Here in the infinite cold dark,
a universe stripped clean like meat off of a bone.
There was an old saying that we came from dust,
and to dust we shall return.
We rest content now,
knowing we took all creation with us.

Who promised you tomorrow?
Who promised you today?
Who said that is for certain
you'll take another breath?

Who said that life will get you
everything you deserve?
Who said that death is awful?
And that there is The End?

Who lied about the future,
who lied about the past?
Who made you sad? Who turned you
in a giant made of dust?

Shinning bright
in the misty night,
the only light
in sight;—
From your polished
face, I waited
once for long.
Like a song
it ended, leaving
you on my sighing
bare hands.
In the distant lands
my fame grew;—
Not a single dew
drop I saw
in my raw
life.
But why?
I cried;—
Why did
you left my
heart lie,
made of
tough;
grey steel—
Still warm
from the fire
you never meant
to stay?

I woke up early today.
I woke up close to the sun.
There's an abyss of thoughts in my head,
Those that can't be there. None.

I try not to think. I try to sleep back.
But it's no use! They press for no why.
They press in my temples! They press pack my chest!
Thoughts of those, who scarifies.

I don't know where to run me whole?
Where can I find my peace?
It's my hopelessness... It's my end...
I guess they are my guilt and penance.