Staring into it,
Standing at the edge of it;
It gives off no light, no hope, no future.


I could lean forward and fall;
But instead I stand here alone,
Existing in the interim.

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Januarian's picture

This is a very poetic

This is a very poetic description of entropy, and the physical future of the cosmos---if that is it final fate.  This is a starkly beautiful poem.


[* /+/ ^]