When the Earth begins to displace itself for the coming of the coming race
What silence so dispassionate would love the loving face
Of disgrace?

What tremor in the human heart
What terror in this broken part
Could rectify this waste?

Pitiable, Unworthy
In all its selfish yearnings
To lament its state too late

What madness we create

This love
So numbing and conditional
No love
No nothing so traditional
We know no love
We just won't comprehend

No god
No temple
No confession
No word

Our silence serves our only purpose
In our relevance, drastically outlived