If We Are the Final Grains of Time During the Inversion of the Hourglass

and eventually existence will purge itself of the upsurge that cannot be calmed, the detested, repugnant billowing of progressive thought with a sickening and fatal denial of fault. maneuvering, shape-shifting- a chimera history, a ridiculous binding to a self-fulfilling prophecy. by propagating a barrage of self-serving liberty, we're taught how to sell our souls for free, and if indeed we do, then who am i to deviate? and who are you to negotiate? and who are we to procreate any intimacy between God and state on a personal level in a humanist age? how infinitesimal all this must seem to the accumulation of infinity.