It may be visible,
And appear to be obtainable,
An ascending science,
A permutation unstable,

This canopy above,
Negotiates with chaos,
Both selfless and peerless,
Hiding its vulnerable status,

We’ve analyzed and probed,
And maneuver through its territories,
A slow motion excursion,
That gravitates towards tranquility,

But just how permanent is,
This apparent depth of normality,
An expanding cosmos collapsing,
Precedes all future eventualalities,

At the edge of this universe,
Will we find but nothing,
Impossible and unfeasible,
For nothing is still something,

Or is it a circular motion,
That revolves without fail,
Around its abstract expanse,
Like a dog chasing its tail,

Can this great random cog,
Come grinding to a halt,
And all that exists suffer,
From this technical fault,

Our minds programmed to speculate,
But never to grasp,
Those answers we seek,
That shapes our future and past?