Doom &

Our shadows have outrun us and
move faster than the light can reach;
The earth, angry and sickened,
boils and sweats through this sickness;
heaves and hurls and spins a little louder
through the endless nights.
Our shadows have outreached our hands
and dug deeper than we ever dreamed,
have spread the mountains thin over the globe,
have used every part of the buffalo
until there are no parts left to use;
have exhumed all buried things and
smoothed the imperfections from the clay.
Our shadows have taken all and left,
what, exactly, but a worthless sphere?
And cursed are the meek,
who inherit such a poor globe.

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