Wheel.
Explosive pressure is building,
The release valve is broken,
Molecules carrying information,
Soon will be destroyed,
In the conflagration of knowledge.
The apple was picked,
From a forbidden tree,
And left for each man, a hell.
What malady of minds,
Has brought this upon us?
What evil reflects in our eye?
Tranquillity can ne’er replace,
The hermetic furore in which,
We’ll stay, ‘til comes the day,
When the Molecules see fit of us,
To be realised as nothing.