Infection

 
In the vast intestine of the cosmos we spin.
Humans are viruses and bacteria.
In an eternal dance of chaos and harmony,
we are messengers of the night without the day.

We were born from the dust of distant stars,
we grew up among comets and giants.
Our remains, like meteors, floating,
in the infinite dark trying to eternalize.

We are microorganisms in the immensity,
multiplying, living without direction.
The universe, indifferent to our fate,
observe us in an infected spectacle.

Our actions, so small, so brief,
like viruses that in a host dare.
But within a vast celestial gut
each life, without purpose, a harsh pain.

Just like bacteria in symbiosis
we work for life, in constant osmosis.
United we are strong and a force to grow
in the gut of the universe to settle down.

And although we may seem insignificant,
our infections are unique in their way.
For every human being, every breath,
It is a burning flame of pure destruction.

In the end, we are all part of this place,
a microorganism to manifest itself.
And in the cosmic system to weave,
our human essence to devour.