The Delusion of Insignificance

My mind is adrift in a sea of nothingness.

This is no Waterworld, no Dryland exists.

. . . the thought of which is preposterous.

You see, I am ruled by logic and persuaded by feeling.

Two beings trapped in an endless maze,

in which we are the mice

and there’s no cheese at the end.

(how did mice develop a taste for cheese?)

(how did we develop a hope for heaven?)

A labyrinth of white-washed blandness

separates us from a false eternity.

This time together is pointless, and yet full of points—

of departure, from this world to the next.

(which exists only in brain-form.)

For what evidence is there of after-this?

A time controlled by logic and reason,

yet dominated by fantastical thoughts of existence.