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Come to the underground,
Where the severed tongues make sound,
And those once lost are found.

Mother Earth loved humans so much
As to bless us with her bountiful touch.

This is the true paradigm of what humanity can bring:
Time flows, yet the waters of life still spring,
And we are not hindered by bondage’s sting.

The economy soars just as birds as they fly,
The air lifts as the meek child coos in his mother’s eye.

Myriads of grain grace the lush countryside,
Delivering satisfaction and happiness worldwide
And sweeping hunger into nonexistence’s tide.

Modern medicine’s wonders have produced its fruit,
Leaving sickness and pestilence all but uprooted.

The blind view spectacles of the Earth’s grace,
The lame tread upon hallowed green grass, like lace,
And the deaf, reinvigorated by hearing the Earth’s pulse race.

No gods, no laws;
Everyone has a share in fulfilling their cause.

Earth’s boundless love drips generously, like morning drizzle;
So let it wash over you with its chisel,
Pacifying and smothering hatred with a fizzle.

No man can sheathe his sword
Into the comrade he once adored.

Neither prejudice, nor hatred:
The innermost intrinsic feelings of the heart have been negated,
The destructive hubris of man deflated.

Towers scrape the sky,
Symbols of man’s accomplishment to the angel’s eye.

Sprawling metropolises transcend both sea and land,
Defiantly forcing God’s hand
As He grasps His glory’s last strand.

Forgotten in exchange for progression,
His anger builds as He observes man’s transgression.

To challenge God and trespass His domain:
Partaking in sin’s cup, man has failed to abstain,
Adhering to Mother Earth’s devotion in vain.

Why won’t they praise and give glory to me?
The whore of the Earth will only cast them into destruction’s sea.
They should be sucking me off like fleas.

Such is the power of the whore’s devotion,
But just as the tides recede back to the ocean,
So too is man’s naive notion.

They proudly refuse to honor my great name
And build temples their loyalty to proclaim.

For man is but a slave to his desire
And a pawn to the all-powerful buyer,
So ask yourself: “How harsh will my punishment be in the holy fire?”
I'm not sure how to explain this, yeah?

"The story deals with the idea that 'true freedom' is self-empowerment, abandoning faith, and learning to deviate from higher authority. It conveys this by chronicling the story of humans under the subjection of both YHVH and Lucifer.

Achieving this 'true freedom' means great personal sacrifice and even transcending human existence. Submissiveness and subjugation is intrinsic to human nature; when you get rid of that, you're no longer human. However, you become able to lead your own path without interference from external forces.

The future hinges entirely on you, and what you desire."
System at a Fault is really just six poems that tell an overall story. I don't know what it would be classified as by definition. An anthology? A series? A saga? A short story? Haha.

I'm not worried about that, honestly. This is the beginning of it all, though! I should've named it Genesis or something.

Onto this standalone poem, Paradise is one of the few entries in the series that can probably function by itself.

Basically? No matter how advance life becomes, if it's not aligned with God's will, it will be cast into destruction. Devoted faith is necessary in preserving a world governed by a selfish God. And no matter how free you think you are, as long as higher power exists, it has the power to sway the human mind to its vantage.
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Submitted on
August 7, 2014