Every time I lie down on this bed,
With my head turned to a side
The mist of nihilism drifts slowly in-
Into this small space we call ours..
I lie on my side- gazing
At an eternity of star-specked vastness-
Just at the brink of my pillow,
Just faintly draped in the fabric
Of my multi-dimensional blanket..
Quasars burn and rage over my attention!
Shadowy remnants of supernovas loom
Over the corpses of dead stars.
Rising higher into the spaces-
The cradles of starbirth glow in pride.
I lie still.
Considering my size
I have no right to intervene-
But to only observe and stare in awe.
Prominences of righteous fire
And all-consuming emptiness:
Intimidating beings- life-forms beyond organic origin;
— All at the brink —
Of my shallow understanding,
Existing and coexisting- In a wild circus
Of fire-breathers and lions alike!
I feel so puny-
I shut my eyes.
No more, I say- no more..!
Yet the visions stay-
As solid as the truths
Etched on rock since the prehistoric times.
Since when has mankind considered
Himself so influential that
He might surpass all creation
And claim the universe as his spoils?
I turn on my tummy
My head grows drowsy..
The stars fade..the mist wavers-
I am a single speck of light
A spark like a thousand suns-
In a sea of flowing death;
We all are-
But go unnoticed- overshadowed
By the infinitely many galaxies