"Man, her last work, who seem'd so fair Such splendid purpose in his eyes Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shriek'd against his creed"
How far is too far? What happens when rulers who had forgotten the cause of benevolence discover tools from eons ago whose destructive purpose was tempered by souls long since turned to dust?










