Poetry for end of the world

Poetry for end of the world
Photo by Rubén Bagüés / Unsplash

I wrote this piece an year ago as a story

In twilight's fold, an Indian sage did muse,

Upon life's fragile thread, its woven hues.

A journey's end, where meanings lose their grip,

Where once-told tales and truths begin to slip.


This grand enigma of our fleeting breath,

A dance between the living and what's left.

Questions hang, where do our spirits flee?

In rebirth's womb or rest eternally?


The mind, a sentinel, guards life's frail flame,

Consciousness, a torch, survival its aim.

Yet life's tight script, it sometimes does elude,

Beyond control, where fate is not subdued.


Accept we must, death's patient, quiet tide,

Not with fear, but with a sense of pride.

Self-interest fuels our daily quest,

For food, for home, for life's unwavering zest.


Yet death, that secret, nature does disguise,

Against self-gain, our mortal dread does rise.

In medicine's advance, we seek to stall,

The end that comes, the end that waits for all.


Bodies bound by time's relentless march,

Yet minds may soar beyond the starry arch.

Between the two, a balance, a grace,

To shield us from the truth we face.


In paradox, both complete and seeking,

For longer life, our sciences are peeking.

Through CRISPR’s lens, our genes we may rewrite,

A bid for days prolonged into the night.


The reason why we're destined to depart,

Varies by the holder of each heart.

God’s design, some say, through life we wend,

To gather tales, to Him then to ascend.


Why not direct, divine words to our ears?

This silence fuels uncertainty, and fears.

The scientist with cell and sinew speaks,

Of death as failure, life’s eternal peaks.


The marketer, in death's denial veiled,

Sells dreams of joy, where not one has prevailed.

Yet death, that constant, through all life it weaves,

In every loss, in every breath that heaves.


At cellular ballet, within we view,

Our essence, changing, old gives way to new.

To grasp death's truth, peel back life’s busy veils,

And find within, the core that never fails.


Yet as we face the void, one truth rings clear,

Love's tender might, across our mortal sphere.

Transcending dualities of our days,

In love's soft glow, we find our truest ways.


In love, we trust, as final nights descend,

A force that's ours, until the very end.

An Indian tale, spun into this verse,

A life, a love, amidst the universe.