In the age of ember and steel
among circuitry and forge
there stood an old stone in sanctuary with the carving of the face of God
Doused without shelter in countless storms
rain washed its face ceaselessly
though its chiseled features did not fade in time
the water only seemed to polish any manmade blemishes
causing its remarkable face to appear as immortal as the people’s pride
As the city grew
people forgot or abandoned faith in all things but their own way
They believed whether they were given their first steps or they were products of glints of fate or chance
there was no future they could not smith
no desire altruistic or twisted that could not be brought to pass through ingenious manifest pride
intellect unbound by a higher creed in something outward was one that could be churned inside
growing into an unstoppable whirlwind of cerebral domain
---
That is when the face of God
carved in chiseled stone
doused in ages of open rain
lit its eyes in focused fire
and so to the drops began falling from the sky
Sulfur and fire reigned down
melting circuitry and steel
As destruction fell, crackled, and spread
the effigy lit up brighter and hotter so all could see
Eventually a messenger emerged
calling any that would to sanctuary
the people would not listen
for there was no roof built over the place they had abandoned
So they fell by their desire to live by their creed
and were washed away in the rain
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