| The curtains never fall — they only rise
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| At the cosmic theatre
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| Standing ovations came at the 15 billion-mark"
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| Blurs and vague impressions aside —
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| The engineer, the director
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| Had the galaxies disposed, and then exposed
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| For the explorers who never took an answer for an answer
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| A matter of time — not space
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| How far linearity has permitted us to see
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| Outwards means backwards in a universe so vast
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| Stretched in time, see it commence
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| — a set of celestial fragments
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| At immeasurable expanses
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| How far a flicker can force itself
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| Through dimness, through fields of emission
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| The shine slowly turning red
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| A burgundy sense of distance
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| An overturned curtain call
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| — the velvety draperies eternally rising
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| Into infinite blurs of timelessness
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| For an audience correctly dressed in
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| Extravagant suits of flaming curiosity
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| The witnesses and surveyors of celestial enchantment
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| Hunted by distance and time
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| The curtain reluctantly withdraws
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| A prelude to the swirling drama:
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| Creation — formation — design
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| Or deduction — destruction — collapse
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| — all depending on the angle |