Poetic Mathematics of Mankind: 6

Note: What follows is a part of a 10-post poetic commentary on mankind's devolution (posts on our evolution begin here and are similarly titled in the archives.)

This is my world
There is nothing more than this
We are creators of our senses
There is no greater thing than our
Own bliss

To each man what he can carry,
To each man what he can till
There is nothing denied to you
Outside of your own will

Here we can be kings and conquerors
Here we can be Gods
We can control these simple souls
And save them from the odds

All of creation is governed by
Sound logic, reason and rules
The real world isn’t light and gold,
It’s ruthless, cold and cruel

But we can master it,
We can claim it
We are its leaders,
We can name it

We can study and learn and listen
To every branch that is on the Tree
And with every book we make out of it
We will grow in power by three

This is our world
We have dominion here
And our destiny is fixed
Individual Consciousness bound
By Physical Existence,
the Beast’s Mark: 616.

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