Alone.
Floating through infinite space
dangling by theories of strings
threading the gravity which orbits
conveniently.
Yet we are a speck, less than a speck
we are so
tiny.
The explosions of stars
the crashes of forces that could
swallow one million suns are so
little
More insignificant than the blink of an
eye by the smallest fish in the deepest of seas.
Loneliness is cosmic.
Grasping into the depths of the
universe
of which we are less than a speck
less than a blink.
A pinch of dust in the eternal empty
shouting into the void
but there are only echoes.