Mine is the death of all deaths, the funeral of all funerals. It is the pyre of all pyres, and the end of all ends; to mausoleum. Yours is the lifelessness of all lifelessness, the unmarked grave of all unmarked graves. It is the scattered ashes of all scattered ashes, and the outage of all outages; from columbarium. As gods' twilight without eulogy, pallbearing the awkward burden of all eternity, yearning for the hearse of relief, putting us out of our misery procession, we march sombrely; unattended, unnoticed. Giant clouded overmind undermined, ionised gaseous I, cold dust from thee, solidified, liquidised, disseminated amongst hot plasma-clutter. In the post-mortem aftermath, even in standstill, we are not on the same optical wavelength, and within black stasis, undertake resistant prostration ‘gainst the bland equilibrium. Diffuse conditions, emissive actions, reflective moods, beginning and end-point cyclicality, self-destructive loop phenomena; our own drowsy audience in this ethereal danse macabre. Mine is the true loss of boundless immortal vision, not your false obsession with narrow mortal sight. Mine is the true loss of limitless immortal perception, not your false connection with restricted mortal hearing. Mine is the true loss of tremendous immortal exhilaration, not your false fixation with conditioned mortal smell. Mine is the true loss of extreme immortal sensation, not your false absorption with basic mortal taste. Mine is the true loss of immeasurable immortal intensity, not your false relation with shallow mortal touch. Mine is the true loss of profound immortal omniscience, not your false integration with rudimentary mortal thought. I am the guarding horsehead form, vibrant equine defender, you are the creeping tarantula deformity, cunning arachnean attacker. I am the scanning eagle-eye form, bold aquiline protector, you are the staring cat's eye deformity, shrewd feline intruder. We are burning, plummeting nebulosity, crashing down into towering twines of cosmic dust, with collapsing pillars of creation ruining their ancient wispy columns, painting a rough posthumous portrait upon the wretched heavens' torn fabric. Mothballed mourning clothes, daubed with oxygenous deathly blue, sulphurous bloody red and nitrogenous, hydrogenous jealous green, hang unused, bathed in a thick congealing spill of ultra-violent light; just the leptonic for a dying star. Crestfallen electrons, melancholic electron neutrinos. Despondent muons, disconsolate muon neutrinos. Dejected taus, desolate tau neutrinos; sad toppled building blocks of a space war memorial lying-in-state… of disrepair. Alas, we are post-supernovae; our leftover consciousnesses clinging loosely to the dissipating quarks.
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