That was the end of it.
We drank the last drops of wine
From the final golden grapes.
We watched the last sunset
On the last romantic beach.
The sky turned to molten lava.
The stars popped out of the sky
One by one.
Ttime and space shriveled up
Like a balloon releasing air.
Tthe angels blew their trumpets
as God played
A magnificent violin sonata.
Finito.
Au revoir.
No regrets, sort of.
The lovers kissed their last hungry kiss.
Gravity dissipated.
DNA unzipped.
Soon we forgot
the human condition, lost all memory
Of animal body or cellular structure.
And yet something intangible lingered
In the uncreated void: a white hole
Where Being was and would be:
The paradoxical fulfillment
Of nobody’s desire.