the first was the universe’s manifestation

Of the vivacious planet, we call our home

Will the second come with our presence still here?

The devastation.

A boom.

As a new god falls from the heavens

his light encases all things existing and known to be true,

But that light will be the last thing to be remembered

The rest

Just gray dust floating like pollen on a spring day

Will be waiting to be swept up by a broom that will never come

As the universe continues again

Only this time, without occupants to observe its existence.