We furrow our brow
With clinched fist
We bellow
Ignorant of the fate
That awaits us all

We are made up
Of that before
In transition
To nothing more

We posture and bloat
And conflate
Our importance
Over what awaits

Hubris the disease
That shortens our ride
The flurry of nothing
We must recognize

We rattle and pound
With such great noise
To an end
No life can avoid

I do not seek
To promote magic
Or to claim
Absolute oracles

But of to say
If to extend
What we have
We can extend

If of such
We don't pretend
We don't pretend
That of Santa

We don't pretend
That of Allah
That of Jesus
These claims are hollow

Males of Alpha
These claims be
To subjugate
Advisories

To be on top
Is life's goal
To become fuel
For something else

Finite we are
And must dispense
With all this myth
If we want to live



Marketing doesn't always sell truth, effective marketing always appeals to the masses, which is why the super natural claims exist. Feeling good, far too often wins out over pragmatism and reality. Marketing is simply the skill of appealing to emotion.

Jesus and Allah, your or me, 50 billion years from now will be all equally famous.



morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Macbeth Act 5, scene 5, 19–28