Demon Seed

Humanity yearns so desperately

to equal God's great creativity.

In some creations, how we shine:

music dance, story weaving, wine.

Then thunderstorms of madness

rain upon us, flooding sadness

sweep us into anguish, grief,

into despair without relief.

We're drawn to high castles,

where old hunchbacked vassals

glare wall-eyed as lightning

flares without brightening.

Laboratories in the high towers,

Where the doctor wields power,

creating new life in a dark hour,

in the belfry of the high tower.

— The book of Counted Sorrows