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Here in prostration none dare bespeak the ideals that the order is uncertain

Blind reverance to the unperceived with scruples that contradict

When there is rapture waiting what value can you truly assign to all that is temporary

When concession to your maker disburdens you of all consequence

Just as the trinity begun, the temporal anthropocene ends in a violent paroxysm

As each body generates risks beyond their capacity to dissect them

Would you rather immediate, indiscriminate destuction or a slow crawl into annihilation

At least this way your conceit is unscathed and your disregard can remain

Finally the population, as a collective, entwined in the belated act of compunction

The resulting deluge restores the once barren lands

Tis not something for you to believe but to be baptised in condemnation

Such as one can be slain, he cannot be crowned

How can you show repentance when your guilt is shed and put up on a vacant ideal?

I am truth itself, the rewarder of good men

I confer eternal rewards on my house of convocation

You have failed to respond to my grace and thus your judgement will be more severe

I gaze in dismay at the idea you can live without blame

No new body, no Eden

To remain humbled and unredeemed

To be crushed under the weight of their own sins

To have every aspect of their essence disappear

To accept certain perdition