So I watch the smoke rise above,
No longer its source do I love,
The burnt offerings of hope and dismay,
amid the smell of ash and decay.
Trying to see through the haze,
a world below that no one else can gaze.
Frightened souls march to the beat of their destiny,
Lives filled with empty promises and a cacophony of misery.
From my perch I gaze below,
My patience no longer do I show,
I look again at my once beautiful creations that I behold.
With mighty hands I reach down but nothing new, just the old.
I close the curtains and obscure the view that I see.
"Let mankind perish," I say. "It is their destiny."
Amid the haze of violence and despair,
the sound of a whisper I suddenly become aware.
The sweet sound of my creation,
calling me to rekindle that relation.
But I have already given up, I have moved on.
"Your souls must perish, now begone!"
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