Our Ultimate Identity Crisis

. People, places, events. People, People, places, places, events. events. People, People, places, places, events. events. People, People, places, When Time places, events. Runs Out events. People, People, places, places, events. events. People, People, places, places, events. events. People, places, events. ---------------------------- Our Sun, one day, will bloat and die - A White Dwarf in a cold, dark sky. All life will end, no more to be, With Earth boiled dry eternally. Once lofty names - egos to see Lost for all time - a bygone frieze. And, for those who think fame will last - Their climb is fettered to the Past. Fate won't brook Earth's dying behests For pardon as its last request. Nor sanction wheeler-dealer ties That plundered all in faint disguise. It won't avail to wail and whine All drunk with self in self-decline. The withered rose in wintertime Far out-of-step from former prime. Rich tiles of clay, once on display, Now relics from their glory days Where once they stood, now in decay, All broken, burned and blown away. While Kings and rogues with spoils gotten Will turn to dust - all forgotten. The place they lived, the realm they ruled, Where few were served - but many fooled. The past and present will be seen As outsourced odds - not as the mean. A future with none left to share; A bleak endowment everywhere. And, as we lose our History, Of which we boasted mastery, Time will reflect, "What was it worth?" As we foreclose on Mother earth.