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In God's Death: Mankind's Apocrypha of Revelation

I saw Descartes and Charles Darwin engage free will,
in transfixion of human light,
that is poppy blood,
above the corpses of the sixth extinction,
as one who could no longer be
to one who evolutionarily only could have done.

The husks,
having mimed spiritualists in effort to lubricate
age prognosis in the rusting, ceaseless brain,
kneeled to their disposed Nirvana and
vanished in soul.

Fields ruined in gravings of fire and tilled rock.
The magnetosphere collapsed. The weeds broiled.
The sun detonated in the prescribed millennium.

This universe,
devoid in Earth, vexed herself of life.
Polaris
hadn't considered us,
despite the Dipper scooping bushels at autumn;
whether or not we were creatures of stardust
amalgamated of a DNA-munching lipid
to have irradiated toward the anomaly
of instinct
or any reason
that was enframed in the like origin of actualized beings.
Written by DecipherMe
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