Oliver Foreman

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A Logician’s Lament

Day comes again, the sun is in the sky.
Predictable again, the sun is never shy.
Night comes again, the sun is nigh to die.
To say otherwise; To say a lie.

I count the stars, a finite crowd.
I count my wishes, a finite cloud.
I see my blood, I count it too.
A finite world of finite views.

I'm asked a question, of flawed resolve.
I ask a question, to no absolve.
I hear a query and overhear;
A mockery, a chuckle, a whimper here.

To my left a bright light glows,
and her name is fact, a kindered spirit.
My righthand side; a darkness glooms,
not death nor fear but a hampered mirror.

I look around, I see no sense.
I look within, I feel so tence.
I feel a tug, a pull, a strain.
A battle, a struggle, a fight in vain.

Dispite our billions, equations - eternal - rule all
if reason dead we must die soon
Listen to earth's rumble, hear Titan's call
Is human life ending? The empire withered?

My final cry, to Athena:

I hope so too...
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