Nadir

Strange, how we are so stubborn...

For man never was one to yield to 'no'. We stole fire from the gods, forged steel in the red hot furnaces of the mountainside, and waged war with the blades begotten.

Through dusty roads to the tar-sticky asphalt of cities, your journey was nearly complete.

You remember the way Detroit looked on lonely winter nights.

The way the lights glimmered off her fresh coat of snow left you staring like you'd never seen with your eyes before. Something in you stirred, as though you found love for the first time.

You watched her as she breathed and her pulse hammered against her throat, of a thousand busy lives rushing through her veins.

She was beautiful and she was like nothing you'd seen before.

You remember joy...

Fled behind sinking lids as your eyes closed one final time, of consciousness merged with data and a life coming to close.

You remember pain...

For our lives are imperfect, and in the flaws of the flesh we find the perfection of God, and you sank into Her.

Death, like a mother's embrace.

Love, distant, as he cried over you. You'd never seen his tears before, and they were not real.

Through glassy lenses you witnessed the stars coming down and kingdoms falling. You stood on the precipice of a new world order and you refused to yield.

For we are gods within, and divinity is our birthright.