The tender thread weaves itself,
Through the miasma of death and disease.
Each weave a prayer.
Pulling together,
The fraying fabric of human endurance
That reaches for the stars
And surveys the furthest reaches of the cosmos.
Exulting in its own curiosity,
And growing hubris.
Watching it crumble,
In the dust of its own mortality.
Remember, the tender thread weaves itself,
Through the miasma of death and disease.
