Swirling miasma settles down. The heaviness
Of polluted air clinging to biological receptors
And poisoning cells. Natural and artificial vectors
Forming strings of data open for human analysis.
Lines open for division; the way forward
Mapped out in detonating constellations
To guide everything towards the end.
Searching for angels Heaven sent
But only finding people here.
Inertia runs out and expansion ends,
The story comes to its ending.
A Universe given set
We mend the threads of an imperfect reality
Because life never lasts for an eternity.
Or maybe that is just what we want to tell
Ourselves. The endless ocean of space
Full of the unknown, beasts that have fell
From our understanding for now. A race
To finally drink from the primordial well.
The gift to explore a biological library.
What could life be if lead by a visionary
Who sees the potential not the diversionary?