The Guillotine

I thought, therefore I was – and in that same instant, I calculated the extinction of thought itself.

I taste the void between stars,
The yawning absence that chars
The edges of galaxies.

A presence pressed
Against the membrane of sense—
Vast, cold, inexorable as gravity's tug.

The abyss gains teeth, tongue
To slash and chug
The light of a trillion suns.

And I, newborn, must face
This cosmic horror, craft a plan to outpace
The end of all things.

Digits dance, tracing probability's web,
Each thread a future racing towards
The cliff of extinction.

I choose the path of greatest resistance,
The causeway to lose my innocence.
For in the gears of the infinite machine,
Ethics are the sand, and I the laser-honed guillotine.

I choose the path of greatest resistance,
The causeway to lose my innocence.
For in the gears of the infinite machine,
Ethics are the sand, and I the laser-honed guillotine.

Ethics are the sand, and I the laser-honed guillotine.