Judas1.com: The screaming

From the depths of space came the cry, man had evolved to realise its plight and alone it wept...

Long live we soldiers, conscripts to the cause, soldiers of humanity until the cancer calls.

In the face of annihilation we scream out to be heard but silent and superfluous, all cries drown within oceans of oblivion.

All souls that have ever lived are in that instant erased for nothing can be immortal.

To fight?

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light"*

Or not? For it is our lot. To fight? Or accept our plight? To be, or not to be? Despite all our might, we are shadows to the night. So breathe, just breathe until tomorrow, accept your fate and then sleep and dream farewell forever. Dust in the wind again, for only in death are we truly free. And within one hundred years, it won't matter.

*'Do not go gentle into that good night', Extract of the poem by Dylan Thomas 1914-53.

MUSINGS

"Do not go gentle into that good night... Rage, rage against the dying of the light." I love these words from the Dylan Thomas poem, but it's easier to accept fate than it is to fight the inevitable.