In a dying universe
Beauty is abundant and full of variety -
Specks of cosmic dust congregate
In butterflies momentarily.
Much more wonder, much more poetry
Is in such a place than a stagnant one -
A place where nothing arises, nothing ceases
And existence flows eternally.
But it comes at a price.
The ugliest of universes is this,
For all the beauty is mere Tantalus’s bread -
It vanishes the moment it is reached.
So you play nice,
Concealing a clenched fist
Swallowing the rage against death
For it’s futile anyway.