What are we? Who were we?
Was it real, this orb, this life, or was it a dream?
Where do we go?
When does it end?
Why did we have to know?
The creatures who controlled us, the aliens, the space few…
Do we meet them?
Do we levitate in a fiery explosion, the smoke rising from our loins?
Do we drop onto their turf, in control of another universe? Of others who say…who, what where when why?
Or does the picture fade to black, mewling its last? Not with the bang but the whimper…all stations signing off…
Do we reconnect on the other side? In a God-like reunion?
Are we reborn in another form, all matter reinventing itself?
Why can I not allow the ideal of nothingness?
Why can I not beat my breast with anger, loss, frustration?
I, who said it is here and then it is not…this is the futile taunt of a vicious few…