The man glanced longingly at the night sky
He spent many long evenings pondering why
His existence had come to this moment in time
The conclusion is not meant to be heard
For it is a beautiful illusion, even if absurd
The man becomes one by sharing with the starry scape
Feeling the warm embrace, his solemn escape
Knowing full well his meaning is null
He has an undying passion which resists the cull
To rejoin with the abyss, he overcomes the rift
He is comforted by the universal collective
Untempered by the beautiful perspective
The man closes his eyes and sees clearly
The origin of his self, which slowly subsides to weary
Calming dreams cushion his descent into Celestia, nearly