The only hope is that there is no hope,
For then one's vision can adjust to darkness.
Life after death might help a body cope,
But one should savor life in all its starkness.
With Heaven gone, the heavens, free to speak,
Tell us of a universe uncaring,
Vast and violent, with storms that wreak
Havoc on what worlds might be life bearing.
How sweet just to admit that death's the end!
Of course, of course we've known it all along!
Despite millennia of myths, we tend
To doubt when the insistence seems too strong.
This we know: We perish and are gone.
Beneath the moment's fertile soil is stone.