We are gradually losing the controllable,
Following the exquisite constructed menu, in shaping our forms.
Rushed into the wild forest of indifferent possibilities,
All is possible while the wolves devour your skull.
Boats against the current, rivers stream into the sea,
The illusion of power shatters with the presence of infinity.
In death, in anguish, in satisfying content;
With the never granted crown of choice,
Unveils the simplicity of reluctance.
Bon voyage to the grand unknown,
Ahoy! Pure beings,
When you are landing on the moon.