One Thing Asked

We live as in the days of mighty Nimrod. Our language is becoming more and more confused by each passing night and day, but we dare not cease to build the tower up to the Heavens that we have long stopped believing in.

Memory of the great deluge, our salvation, eludes us. We do not understand sign. We are a people restlessly toiling – up, up, up, to the sky, to the spheres, to infinity and beyond. We descend to the depths, to where death and sin have preceded us – down, down, down, and lower.

The End, man’s End, is nigh, closer to us than we are to ourselves.