Monotony: the path to immortality.

A  kingdom of the clouds,
created with running-ink decrees.
A place hard of hearing,
if you aren't on your knees.
Beyond the bright blue sky,
and clouds you can't see through;
there lies a few gilded eyes,
looking back at you.

Entrance denied,
by those on the ground;
and told to those,
who hear no sound.
Words, blinded,
and equipped with blades;
in the name of God,
they attack with praise.

All of us equally damned,
with no real protection.
No vaccine nor remedy,
to cure this infection.
Masturbating each other's minds,
soothing that unholy thought.
With reason on the outermost edge,
we accept what "He hath wrought".

A fascination with the end,
to know what we can not conceive.
A life considered busy,
eager for the divine reprieve.