From remains of stardust and particles,
who says that humanity should be superior?
When the days are more effulgent, gleaming,
will the universe debacle into a black hole?
Or obliterate into higher consciousness,
or keep the energy circulating time after time?
Being tinier than a dust mote in the air,
will our landmarks of us dissipate from nature?
Gaze into the dark sky, a chasm of uncertainty,
yet the glowing balls of plasma are beautiful.
Nothing can be inevitable, unless laws of gravity,
and our understanding ends in utter chaos;
unless there is an escape to

another reality.