The Birth of Death
Another story, never told
The Eden apple was replaced
By a human heart, throbbing
Amid the green leaves
and the brown trunk
Of a third tree, the Tree of Pain
Its branches reaching up
To the ever-sunshine of the stars
In this universe
Every change was death
To the Master of Time
Indifference Engine
The tools of the master
Perform goodness for a voice
That emanates from a name
Punishing bundled difference
With death
The Death of the Person
The servants of Ialtobaoth
Became swords and sieves
The brutality of a hammer on glass
Shattering themselves and their world
Into a map of borders
Their eyes ever looking forward
And never backward
The dead became seeds
Their souls became spirits of vengeance
Honed to a spearpoint
While the Great Demon rules
Over his world of death alone
Survival of the
The last thing to die
In this universe
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