Poem attributed to Halcyon the Navigator, 1st Admiral of the Great Entropic Fleet
In transit
Many ideas are thrown
Around about futures, pasts,
Presents and presence;
Expansion,
Construction,
Progress.
Cheapest tricks,
They are known to be.
In letters and commentaries,
Many invoke a multitude of
Possibilities
But I see
Only one end.
In these organized days
Our existence or
Existences?
Oceans of tears are shed
Over what could and
Could not be.
Much fuss is made
Over the cost of
Decisions.
They see lines
of time;
Threads,
Spun,
Measured,
And cut
But I see only
Circles.
I see people
Coming,
And going;
I see suns
Igniting,
And snuffing;
I see one day
Again,
And again.
There is no future.
Waste not your efforts
On the manipulations
Set forth by the sages
And the men of
Policy.
They call upon
The child,
The future,
The propogation of,
The city.
But they cannot hide
from the one fate
that awaits them,
and all others.
But fear not!
Tomorrow is
Ten thousand years away
And yesterday is ancient:
Unrecorded,
But altogether
Experienced
And remembered.
So,
Fold your senses
And temper your ideologies.
In traversing the network
The route that you take
Is not the real route.
The testaments you can find
Are not the true histories.
Break from the body
Of History, for
You are lost in the
Fathomless depths of
A single
Drop of
Rain.