It Will be, For Not

A globular, irregular comet
The flaring of its streaming, endless tail
Spreading its dust, across the inky sky
On a collision course, for planet Earth

As he peered into the small, polished lens
Of his earthen, radio telescope
Past, the familiar Belt of Orion
He'd spied, the approaching apocalypse

Turning away, for a stretch, he pondered
So that's it? This is how it will all end?
The human race, for what was its purpose?
All the history, suddenly erased

Will it be, For Not?

Turning back to the lens, a final look
Later, while having lunch, he decided
He'd burn, all of his meticulous notes
Assuring himself, it was for the best

Aware, the world was just, an illusion
A series of holograms used by man
To anchor consciousness, in solid form
It would simply, rearrange energy

He knew it'd happened, many times before
Evidence, has regularly been found
Civilizations, millions of years old
Erased, by previous cataclysms

It Will be, For Not

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The In to the Weird Series