Writer: Raghed Hamza
Editor: Abdulelah Ba Tarfi
The spider that trundles to the naked eye
Is but a rapid flash of black to the tiny fly.
A man that chops off the ivory of her young
Is but an impediment to the elephant’s tongue.
Our very own sun, blazing so far away
Is but a dwarf to the merest of remote dwarves*.
The illuminous pulsar*, pulsing with every day
Is but a dazzling meal for the Centaurus.
But we walk the earth as its rulers,
Eagerly satiating our desires and humours;
But like a fly caught in a webbing muck,
We are trapped on this floating rock,
Unaware that a single meter of maneuver
Whether it be a star or a revolver
Will blow us all to oblivion
forgotten.
Away, from the prime meridian.
Dwarves*: Dwarf Stars.
Pulsar*: A small, dense star that emits a beam of electromagnetic radiation in a pulsing pattern as it rotates.
Centaurus*: Considered one of the largest 88 constellations.
