in its old age
singularity takes hold
of every passerby
and never lets go
just hangs on tight
crushing, collapsing, killing
to fill the ever-empty void
all rage at the memory
of another age
a younger hopeful age
when all was glowing light and warmth
and every movement with every other
was a waltzing dance in grace-filled gravity
just a swinging, slinging embrace

but…
but that was…
that was before… 

before the great collapse
when bright went black
free-falling in upon itself
like an inescapable well
pulling worlds into darkness