We are all fallen. Thrust forth by the irrevocable current of time. Knees bloodied against the fleeting ground. We tread, but we do not tread lightly. Stumbling beasts we shuffle forward, hands grasping for purpose; loose dirt strewn upon the rising wind. Can we ever know what it's worth? We consume suffering. Every breath carries with it mercy and death. And yet we smile for the moments we soon forget. We create what we know will never last. Like a flash of light we ignite, like the stars we deify. We become Gods and swear we shall live forever. We summon hope in the face of the uncaring void. We look into the night sky and we see ourselves. Spectres who refuse to die. And maybe it is a reflection, but the mirrored parts are only in the darkness. Those stars were never ours. And even they will succumb to the night. Can we ever know what it's worth? Please God, let it be worth something.