Nature
Religion

‘All sunsets are illusions to the eye...’

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All sunsets are illusions to the eye;
No sun has ever set from mortal sight —
Our puny ball of mud spins in the sky
To stare upon the void men call the night.

All gods are but the churn of plough to seeds,
The chaff of priests mere superstitious cant.
Their words are perilous, judge by their deeds!
Their prophets profitless, mere beards and rant.

When imams pray in interstellar space
Five times a day — pray, which way must they face?
When bishops rage at inter-species love,
Shall demons mock below — or screech above?

All sunsets are illusions to the eye;
And we ourselves are gods — and all gods die.