Great glowing stars will wisp away in dust
their light will fade. If there were still a sky
by then – there won't be – we'll stand, you and I,
looking at empty black. For all things must
end. Maybe the stars will fall and return
into a fire cloud that will concentrate
into a single point. No place, no date.
Time has rolled up. There's nothing left to burn
or fire takes every scrap. I can't despair
because desire is also like a flame
that burns us up, or turns itself to blame
that separates us and we fade. Yet there
when everything has ended, we'll remain
All passes save this passion and this pain.