Imagine yourself at the end
Past the cusp of the first death
When all that passed before
Turns to stone
In historicity
At last you can discover a thing’s meaning
The quiet
As seasons pass mostly in darkness
The great night of Logic
Descended upon humanity
In the embrace of technology
The afterlife a series
Of calculated guesses
With faith left meritless
In the awareness of near zero probability
Those who still believed
Ensnared in a circular argument
A peaceful place
In the nature of uncertainty
Underlying the codex of Reason
As it was written
Into the fabric of existence
That left even your soul mortal
And all things ephemeral
Asking how to find meaning
In a stone’s temporality
And the incapability
Of Logic to perceive
A time without space
Or a space without time
What lies within and without
A circular Reasoning?