Infinitesimal
Our doom is but a stone’s throw away
In the cosmic games
That the Gods like to play
each streak of light at night
has the potential to end
civilization as we know it
The very fact that we’re so small
Just an infinitesimal little ball
Is what gives us any chance at all
And the sobering thought to realize
Is There’s no limit on great or small
There is truly no such thing as size
And death is no more
than the opening of a door
newly lifting lids of new born eyes
There is no such thing
as purpose or plan
in the wondrously random
Nonsensical, infinitesimal,
Hugely hilarious...sad and dismal
Unlikely universe of man
Copyright © David O'Haolin Whalen | Year Posted 2017
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