The End

I lay under the stars
and can think
only of you
at the end of the world.
Were you terrified?
Did you beg a deity
for your life?
It does not sound like you.
At the end of the world,
your face would have been
as skeptically blank
as it always was,
never betraying any emotion.
In the starlight above me
kings have laid their trust.
Did you trust in the stars,
as they did?
Kings have palaces;
you had nothing
but your rented apartment.
you cried yourself silly.
you shouted raw to the stars
"This is not happening!"
You would have smoked
and you would have fumed
until you burned yourself out.
And maybe you vomited,
at the end,
and hugged the teddy bear
that Napolean had left behind.
Your vision would have
grayed at the edges.
And you might have tried to dance
in the darkness -- a feat
as pointless as speaking through
The rocks must have moved for you,
at the end. For you,
and for your dignity.