Moon The moon has passed its zenith, Hovering, quietly and evenly; I pull down the shutters tight, Past midnight, to calm into sleep My overactive empirical mind, Until having analyzed that view: Why does it glide by so smoothly? I count sheep: one . two . three . . Lightly dozing, asking without guile, - A look, a question, a smell, a bite By Eve could never have caused Such devastating hereditary sin, Condemning all of us mankind, - There has to be a missing link. Counting on: ten . eleven . twelve . . One family insists on dominance Over all members of the group, One elite is claiming supremacy Over the entire population, Enlarging each power cycle By deception and mass murder. Counting: hundred one . two . three . . The myth does not explain it, - But in pious obedience of faith Not further to probe into realities, Not to question the authorities, - Let's start from scratch and afresh, What do we have so far on facts? Counting: thousand one . two . three . . Stellar clouds contract, burn, explode, Planetary systems alternate with dust, A depraved civilization blew itself up That radioactively mutated DNA, Shot out with millions of comets, Is travelling from galaxy to galaxy.