When Man Plays God

Though mine among the millions, still I do not own this child. The core of stone or mist released this night to stand along the ramparts long ago upraised to serve one cause alone, demarking truth from void. For art is higher than the noblest vision. It is our sustenance, our nostrum for decay, indeed, but more! It is the centrifuge of breathing dust that found a universe beyond itself, and then another just inside its own, in equal whirling splendor... in tune with sirens singing in the soul! ~