Penultimate Dawn

And would I write of all the lesser staples of the trivia that pass before my mind while history is borne--it is of man, the swell of glory in his chest. The ages pass before him, he to stand, select the argument, the passion in it-- he to put in place demand, a price, a crest to rule when time slows down its pace. There looking up, I see the restless skies; they'll not be conquered by a man, nor by a god that he creates. He, the one to see, to be creature of his science which sees of its own, creates a reference to its own. Its flight is free, and shares one thing alone--one basic power, one love. ~