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?