The villain is the hero

and they will die the same.

We are always running, constantly fueling,

Inadvertently charging something greater than ourselves

It is recognized but ignored,

Practiced but misrepresented

There is no point in doing

When even knowing is useless.

Death itself will not take us,

Life will not tell us,

Our own minds deceive us,

But what did you expect?

These are only Constructs

With no form but our form,

No Answers but our answers.

Trapped between creature and Creator,

We struggle.

Some rise.

All Die.