They say the notion of infinity,
Is a concept fraught with difficulty.
In fact, however, they are wrong,
Mankind loves that which is infinitely long.
For is not Death the servant of Immortality?
Is not each ending a beginning in our philosophy?
In fact, though most never know,
The number we truly despise is zero.
For how can we understand that which we despise?
How can we understand true sadness, true loss, a true goodbye?
And so we learn to shut our eyes,
And comfort ourselves with infinite lies.
Who can blame us for our numerical fears?
Who can say they welcome the passing years?
And yet we must transcend our fright,
If we wish to see reason's brilliant light.
For only in the truths we find,
Does our being live on, in another's mind.
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