Lungs Alone In A Godless Universe
Consciousness beholds the garden in its various beauty.
It's natural.
But isn't it enough without having to believe
in fairies at the bottom of it too?
Would a shred of reasonable doubt kill you?
And I know it's tragic in a way,
that we've become aware of our own decay.
A cruel quirk of fate you might say,
but hardly germane.
Complexity could never be explained by merely postulating further complexity;
an infinite regress.
And how arrogant to assume
that you stand in the centre of a cosmos tailor made for you.
You're brand new!
And I know it's tragic in a way,
that we've become aware of our own decay;
but we're so uniquely alive.
Fear of the dark talks in tongues.
It speaks. It leaks into the streets.
It becomes mass-hysterical belief.
A mental disease.
Irrationality.
