It is not the end
Despite a world that is dead
An outlook that is silent
And lonely
When the end comes
It is not complete
It is our end only
What we see is not the whole
The truth is greater
The local truth is very small
One cannot see the world
From a hill over there
Nor even from the top of Everest
The world escapes totality's view
As one world dies
Another births anew
Another child's life ends
Another one screams
Another pregnancy lost
Another expectant mother due
One world is glorious
Another forsaken
The cycle goes on
In life, and death
In dreams and waking
"Our total reality and total existence are beautiful and meaningful . . . . We should judge reality by the little which we truly know of it. Since that part which conceptually we know fully turns out to be so beautiful, the real world of which we know so little should also be beautiful. Life may be miserable for seventy years and happy for a million years: the short period of misery may even be necessary for the whole." Kurt Friedrich Gödel
