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The Universal Machine

I tell you this, the universe is but a machine. If you do not believe this, observee only the leaves of the trees for proof of this truth. When but one leaf falls in autumns chill, you may feel assured that it’s green but yellowing fellows will come along soon.

We few mewling children are niether the architects nor the caretakers that we are charged with being. No gentle reader, we are but the despoiler.

Darker the World may be.

Witness now; all ye dark works! This is no new day born! This is the old dawn, new again. Open your eyes upon the flat brown earth, and see that it is yours you dark lords, you fell princes. Lords many, Kings none.

Published inCreative WorkPoetry