Where there is the last of the lights,
Where there everything remains at edge,
On the far end, at the brim of eternity
Where the finest of the telescopes don’t see,
Where silences are never awkward,
There lies a door.
It leads to the next.
And the next to its next.
Every one wants to,
But not all can reach that far end.
Most even hustle along, thump and trump
Breaking bones, they leap and jump;
But get too tired too soon.
Some shed tears
in the name of this labyrinth.
Halfway, their tear-drops turn into vapors.
Some long to rule, be the glory-
be the name inside the story.
But their swords often catch a nasty rust.
Some others just can’t figure it out,
Which way to run? They’ve been busy.
They just follow the fellow runners.
But out of the blue moon,
somewhere under the multiverse
some beautiful specks
of cosmic dusts collide.
And once in a while,
These specks get a lucky job.
of making up those who see the far ends.