Infinity's a fact, but there are those
dogmatic souls who call this blasphemy.
Incredibly, this notion's deadset foes
are those most steeped in myth and fantasy.
No rules, set fixed and firm, perpetuate
a changeless universe. Thus, this negates
a static God dispensing pre-fab fate
to sinners doomed, as hell-bound reprobates.
Appearance is eternity's parade,
given time, even rock will wear away.
A lucid eye atop the highest balustrade
of conscious mind's ascent, may glean a ray
Into the mystery of soul's charade,
and learn one's Self is twin to whom they pray.