PRISONER OF TIME 2 © 2008

Sitting at the world's edge,

Where the horizon meets the infinite,

I meditate on the drowning of humanity,

A slow, silent, and anxious shipwreck.

Intelligence, once a shining beacon,

Now is deep, scarce oxygen,

Thin at altitude,

Where reason struggles for space.

Each thought, a bubble of air,

Trying to surface in the vast emptiness,

While humanity, unaware,

Descends deeper into the cold abyss.

At the world's edge, I see the fall,

A blind plunge into ignorance,

And intelligence, in its subtle struggle,

Is like a weak breath, lacking relevance.

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