ON THE ONE HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-SEVENTH DAY OF THE YEAR

You have lived.

You won't live again.

You will die, and you

will be dead all

the trillions of years

to come. When the last

star cools to cinder

you will be dead, when

the last black hole

explodes, you will be

dead, and in cosmos

where information

is never lost, your

death is eternal.

18.06.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse