Fall from grace

Passions of lust, spirals of pain.

To see what we may yet be.

Once more unto the breach

A born coward of shame.

No more shall deliverance

Be freely given with consent.

Bitten but not shy,

Try to once again fly.

But no wings await us

At the end of the abyss.

Falter, stumble and fall,

Picking oneself up sucks.

Noone to lend a hand,

Truly alone in a maladjusted world.

Power without understanding,

Knowledge without wisdom.

Our own doom written

Self authored in the atoms.

A quietness in the storm,

Yet to come but apparent.

Can’t stop now, oh no.

Too close to our apocalypse.

No god engineered our doom,

No immortal wrote our fall.

Thine brother’s blood

Is on thy hand alone Cain.

No mystery then,

Why we call out for a God.

And only the mocking silence,

Of the cosmos responds.

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