Him, The Galaxy and The Darkness

All Is Lost

I am waiting for the day that everyone has exhausted themselves of thought.
Until every person has thought the exact same thing a million times and thought it was made up from their own brain and mechanics.
Until every thought has been made inti something.
Until every word has been said far too many times for understanding.
Until every hairstyle and bit of clothing has been worn and in and out of style.
Until every bit of the earth has been used and every animal is just a bit of bone upon rubble.
Until the ocean is dry and in it's place, a huge pool of oil and sickness.
Until every bit of skin has been kissed and the edges of the map have been filled in.
Until every landscape has been turned into factories and tall buildings.
Until every skyscraper is worth only hundreds, instead of millions.
Until every cloud has evaporated, and the sun is melting us in day and the moon barely shows at night.
Until every planet has been walked upon and every cure has been found.
Until there is no longer enough room in graveyards to burry the dead and not enough medicine for use.
Until all the monsters have vanished and there is no one left to appreciate art.
Until there is no poet left to see the beauty and horror of still water in a dreamy lake of sea creatures.
I am waiting for the day that all the poet's become extinct.