Against the inconceivable emptiness of space,
stretching on far longer than existence,
light streaks through nothing,
exploding over distance faster than anything else.
As it rolls through space,
in waves and particles,
out toward the end of the universe,
out to infinity,
out into nothing,
does the light know to what it is headed?
Can it perceive its journey,
the unending futility of its path?
Yet on it runs,
reverberating beyond existence.
It is in certainty of failure that boldness comes easiest.
When there is no chance of winning there is nothing to lose.
So take the leap from the sun
and travel out to the blackness.
No more harm can come from flying
than from waiting for a super nova.
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