No Pattern Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

For centuries man from the sun
Sought guiding light, but cycles turn,
Where light is now one day will none
Remain to kindle hope or burn.

And so it is: who live for fun,
Who after resurrection yearn,
Together rot, since time begun
There is no Paradise to earn.

No pattern, when all's said and done,
Emerges that man may discern,
Where lies the empire of the Hun?
So little learnt, so much to learn!

What token's Time, how is it spun?
Will Earth in ice end, in fire burn?
And if the All invent the One,
Comes coot from egg, haunts egg the hern?