The screaming

From the depths of space came a cry, the child had evolved awareness of our mortal and soulless plight, and alone it wept...


Woe is man to whom so much is given, only to be taken. We live, we die and we know not why. Encoded is our use by date to procreate and die, as countless generations pass on their relay baton, in the endless march of death.

Long live we soldiers, conscripts to the cause, soldiers of humanity until the cancer calls. In the face of annihilation, we scream out to be heard but silent and superfluous, all cries drown within oceans of oblivion. Only change is forever.

See all posts on Death | Library