Heeds

Therewith the royal sceptre, which of yore / Ilione, Priam's eldest daughter, bore; / her shining necklace, strung with costly beads, / and diadem, rimmed with gold and studded o'er / with sparkling gems. Thus charged, Achates heeds, / and towards the ships forthwith in eager haste proceeds.

He heeds not – stirs not.

Alive as a cell can be, an easy death that it meets. Healthy a human can be, and with time death heeds. Society blooming with progress, will devolve with regression. A planet abundant in uniqueness, that can end with bleakness. Complex systems that existed, left traceless as black holes prevail. An interconnected sophisticated universe will end up confiscated and left darkened. I wonder, I can exist once and disappear, but will I ever exist again?