Finistère

How many places have been named,
In one language or another,
The edge of the earth, the world’s end?

You could make a nice collection,
A coffee-table book of them,
A podcast of visiting them,

And they’re all wrong, every last one.
Did the locals really believe,
Ever, for sure, they’d reached the end?

It’s human nature to suspect,
To imagine, this is the end,
But to wholeheartedly believe?

Space is full of whorls and ovals,
And time and space curve together,
And probably all people know

The end is only whatever
Point on the curve where you can go
No further into forever.