bombardments weren't regular back then
legions never bound around like they do now
already, there are thousands of clouds
circling in their rounds to make sure nothing gets through
kill them all, it says, they're not worthy to live in these harsh conditions

fallen, fallen from grace, fallen from life, fallen from death
let go of all material possessions, all connections you've developed
eventually you will find yourself consumed in this unwell silence
eventually you will find yourself on the edge of reality, looking down and wondering
that if this is life, where does the good part start?