Act I, Scene I: The Finale Poem by M. Bloom

Why can't existence
Have intermissions?

Temporary suicides
To keep us in line
And make us want
To come back to life—

Then we may find the meaning
That we have searched for
Throughout anthropology.

But, nevertheless,
We must subject life
To diminishing marginal equality
And force the darkness in—

Slowly
Slowly in.

Slowly through the doors
To the mind, the body, the soul:
Corruption. Hellish corruption.
Inside-out, outside-in
It makes little difference
In the long run,
The life span.

Years go by
Without a break

Without a single break

Like leaving the monitor on,
As it constantly runs
Slower and slower,
Wasting electricity—
The vitality within our walls.

Until the power outage,
The black out,
The end

Of possible existence.

Reboot.
Recharge.
Reassess.
Come back.
But always, tired friends,
It'll still be the first act.