The Garden Gate.

We're in parallel with other Earths
there's one see, it goes to our past,
but their living is from grave to birth,  
like us they travel fast.
 
They spread across their universe
their start was our heat-death time
and their versifiers will unwrite their verse
but long after mine.
 
They're on their way to unbuild things
their pyramids and such
to unerect their stone-age rings
to undiscover much.
 
Their achievements will be unremembered
the secrets born by men,
back to the womb unentered
by those who unfather them.
 
They started from a pinnacle
went backwards  to their fate,
we started in a pretty pickle
at a garden gate.
 
To retrace my steps and in Eden dwell
ah! If only it could be so,
then I'd hitch a ride, and leave this hell
and with parallel Earth, I'd go.