The Doom of Man
It is our fear of death that drives us;
Harder,
Faster,
To a more glorious end.
We pine for that which we fear.
We crave the rush,
Like modern junkies clinging to old opiates.
An endless cycle of medicating
The fear
with intense fright.
Looking for the next high.
The next world disaster;
Who is more fearful than I?
We move;
We move.












