Other gods? Other masters? Humankind is a bastard! A time with no father, an earth with no mother, A rhyme without reason, an effect without cause. I peered over Chasm's edge, To Wit's end am I brought. To describe the nothingness felt, that palpable Void, Offends its terrible majesty. For script would mar this horrid great. And yet that's what I must commit. Because I saw... and now must do The atrocious and inconceivable. Since nothing is but total naught, I now assume the throne of God. For I must, to live on, create Something out of this Nothing. Thus is the task before all man, Who awaken, screaming, into this world. We have not choice - No, forth already we move, Continuing as if toward a mountain. But only ever as if. If no end exists - no terminus - Why still proceed? Why must I play the pilgrim and the god? The locusts surely have no king And so accedes the apostate. But this exigency is vanity