A magically fine-tuned machine,
A proud, anthropocentric dream,
An inverse deduction of causality,
An infantile logic refusing to see
The non-axiomatic nature of humanity.
The specter of contingency,
The horror invites fallacy,
The child runs in fear to save ego from harm,
Awaiting protection in telos’ arms,
Bewitched by an ancient, phylogenetic charm.
Behold the vastness of space,
The cosmic perspective in a mere amoeba’s gaze.
There’s grandeur beyond this sealed egocentric maze,
Beyond anthropic dreams.
A truistic tautology,
Desperate attempts to avoid the idea
That nothing were lost if we weren’t here.
A child of a poor imagination and vain fear.