There I was, beckoned by the mountain
Up the slopes and to the source I climbed
I knew not in my mind but in my blood
Mankind shall fall
Into the wounds of the world

The Earth shall claim it's own
Without a tear
And I shall watch mankind burn
In the fire we fathered

If I was told a tale in such pacifying prose
I'd scream to the mountain for a tale more like my own
For compassion shall be our undoing
And weakness embraced our utmost defeat
May we remember, disperse, and fall.

In a world in which men
Fear the kiss of death
We welcome the cold lips of mortality
Those of strength, of one blood
Of supremacy
Shall fear no end

For it takes not time nor wisdom to realize
But an ancient and primitive instinct
An instinct possessed by both beast and man
Of intolerant hatred
Of might beyond pity
Of compassionless life
and the death of morality

I write the epilogue