by Michael Angerer
Once the world is ended I will see
The glittering stars go drifting by,
Leaving their sparkling trails upon an empty sky,
Unfolding, falling, flowing slowly towards me.
I know not dark, not brightness here,
Where dawnless light endarkens speechless thought
Of future past and present yet unclear,
All non-existent in my lonely void unwrought.
And how could I alone be whole
Without all those who made my soul?
The silent bronze-song of the mourning-bell
Proudly proclaimed my truth: I was in hell.