We’ve always feared the end was nigh.
The simple folk of times gone by
Imagined God would do away
With all of us on Judgement Day,
But now we fret we’ll be destroyed
By virus or by asteroid,
By overpopulation or
By thermonuclear World war,
By nearby supernova, by
Annihilating our supply
Of oxygen, by ice age freeze
Or drowning in the rising seas,
By cyber-terrorist assault
Or universal debt default,
By black holes conjured courtesy
Of boffins at the LHC,
By nanobots that rearrange
Our atoms into something strange
Or rogue computers that refuse
To see that we’re of any use
And pull our plug. We could expire
In ice or just as like in fire,
With bang or whimper. Count the ways.
We’re jolly spoilt for choice these days.