In Eternally Fading Twilight

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From nothing, all blossomed and from itself took flight.

Creation flies away from us at the timeless speed of light.

        Freed from First Light's electromagnetic web,

        matter could fall into gravity's flow and ebb.

From gas cloud, to starshine, to supernova's light,

a galaxy's a candle, against eternal night.

Distances wax greater, the Universe grows old,

all the stars are dying and even light goes cold.

        The ashes of starfire from supernovae fly;

        the elements of chemistry strewn across the sky.

The galaxies are waning; they redden as they cool.

The embers of Creation are quenching in time's pool.

Among those glowing embers there shines a special spark,

a thing that understands how the Universe goes dark.

        As starlight mimics First Light, in pale imitation,

        so words mimic the First Word, though too weak to renew         Creation?

Space expands forever; we'll not escape our plight,

but only call our mammal howls into endless twilight.


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