Watching the lamp posts click on,
All across the cities.
Slow red flashing –
Mountaintop towers,
Network broadcasts,
Dull red blinking.
Tomorrow.
Or Tomorrow.
Feels so strange.
Waiting placidly,
For many worlds to end.
All so I can pick up the pieces,
To stitch Humanity back together again.
Hoof.
Tomorrow. Or Tomorrow.
