The moment calls me here and now,
but even as it does it has slipped away.
The Universe will remember,
time drawn out over unimaginable distance.
We see all the way back to the beginning,
what once was will always be somewhere.
The Earth is not aging but being driven,
a heat engine pushed to breaking
by 7 billion mostly struggling helpless, innocents
(it would take hundreds of years just to glance at every face)
and a few ruthlessly greedy idiots who want nothing more
than winning. But it's not a game.
The rule of entropy directs us to oblivion,
no Maxwell's daemon can save us.
So why do we struggle to live, to create?
I am here, I was here, is all we wish to say.
The Universe will save these words,
but leave no one to read them.
