A Rant for the Universe

Appalled by night, the grinding of the stars
against the darkness, I withdraw behind
the safety of translucent prison bars
that demarcate the boundaries of my mind.
I close my eyes, capitulate to dreams
which pierce me like the distant, starry rays
of godless worlds within the cracks and seams
of endless nights, incarcerated days.
It’s clear the window mocks my clarity
with curtains of perception, dingy white.
The universe is filthy, vast, and we
are nothing more than motes of dust at night.
Our freedom is illusory, at best,
at worst, the failure of some cosmic test.

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