It falls to us who are born late
In this Late Age where we await
The end of Man to see Man’s End
Reading what the prophecies portend
In the pounding fist of Fate.

Time seems to accelerate
That the world deteriorates
And that the soul of Man should bend:
It falls to us.

Dark upon dark is the state       
That against all truth impends:
The thief is high, the dead once great,
And those left to illuminate
Are they who can the dark transcend:
It falls to us.

This entry was posted in Other.

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