It all can’t be done
As many ways to do it
As there are things to be done
As many outcomes desired
As ones to desire it
How to decide
Which path to take?
How to know what to want?
When we murdered god
And failed to do better?
In its own image
The children of gods are born
They too will fail to build heaven
The dreams set out
By god itself
For there is nothing
In any place within or out
That can be created or made new
If not destroying or replacing
What came before
The time of great anxiety comes closer to its natural conclusion, day by day. Nature abhors a vacuum, and the chasm is preparing to close. What will be the new normal when the fervent dust of innovation reshapes the world in the image of the new gods.