We believe in the perfection of the species
We wonder why our actions do not succeed
We are grateful for our comforts and leisure
Our world is impermanent and so are we
We will kill one another, for the revelry
We will slaughter a brother in abject greed
We will murder one another for treasure
Or for our visceral pleasures
We will do as we will seek
Whatever we might find
And by our hand's unholy act
“…So when the last and dreadful hour
This crumbling pageant shall devour,
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And Music shall untune the sky”
―
