The Day the Sun Explodes

One day this old earth shall pass, When the cosmic gods unleash their last damning curse. Everything will be digested, into the bellies of a billion skies, The black smoke will paint hands, waving a billion goodbyes. It will be the end of all roads: The day the sun explodes. There will be no one to witness this earth-shattering glory. No reporter will cover this last breaking story. The curtain of history will come down in a stellar blast. The present will marry the future and become one past. It will be the greatest show on earth, but no audience or applauds: The day the sun explodes. Physical matter will become statistics, that will never again matter. There will be nothing to record, and no one to enter the data. Gold will be worthless, unredeemable by dollars or pounds, When the periodic table goes haywire, and bonds all its compounds. No defense gadgets, stock markets or computer codes: The day the sun explodes. Millions of years dominated by the greed of humanity, Reduced to vanity by unstoppable cosmic insanity. Leaving nothing to stand, not a strand of grass nor a city. Annihilating everything with no pity or peace treaty. In a colorful ceremony to mark the end as it unfolds: The day the sun explodes. It will be the last day for the outdoors, the brightest sunlight, But neither will a girl hold an ice cream, nor a boy fly a kite. The last carnival on earth, the summer of all summers, Before the gods bang together, their thunderous hammers. No picket-fenced suburbs, no mortgages and leaseholds, The day the sun explodes. The sun is like a big whale and the earth its worm-like bait, On a nuclear collision course, to set the record straight. Not even our millennial graves will be respected. While we are resting in peace, they will be desecrated. Lakes and oceans will evaporate with fossils of fish and toads. The day the sun explodes.