We walk scattered amongst the blind, tiny beacons of dark.
Our will and resolve guiding us so,
Come all you weak and twisted, and learn from our truths so stark.
We have seen the nature of man and his devices, we have felt the melancholy of his conformities.
We have glimpsed the face of the shapeless foundations, we have seen the blackened froth of the defiled seas.
And for this brief moment of clear sight,
We have felt the exquisite resonance of our minds free from blight.
And as the nameless writhe in the embers and the holy preach their naiveté, our words are brushed aside with scorn and discord.
Those whose words leave us in the dark, shall be shunned and deemed heretic, they say.
Those who claim that we are less than exclusive, the chosen avatars to guide the animals, the fair and fortunate, shall be thrown aside as pessimists and aimless vagabonds, they say.
Those who deny our place in the silver city, our mortality and amorality accepted, shall be burned at the cross for their sacrilegious lies, they say.
These deluded have their power and we do not.
And our last laugh shall be a bitter one.