The Falling or The Primordial Virginity of Mind

The vaults decay, the rivers weep. We inebriate ourselves with the wine of eternity.The street creeks under footstep and aches in wooden planks, the sky burns red and clouds veer upwards. We drink, still our throats are dry. Our slumber, no more at peace, throttles in dreams of vengeance. We talk no more. The buildings compose the frostbitten air, we breath in slow, long breaths. In pain our lungs are black with memory. Still we drink. Drop by drop we drain the fluids out of our marrowless bones. We storm, and out of hidden recesses, terrible alcoves of the mind, we spur our monsters into flesh. With their teeth we tare at each other, no longer human. We are no longer human, but beasts, incapable of coordinated speech, of coordinated thought. We babble in our rationality. We tear flesh with our teeth, befallen creatures that we have rendered ourselves. Animals...no better than animals, far worse than anything that is to be found in the darkest wood. We feast on our vanity, our greed for our own image. We curse and pray to our instincts, all out of the folly of action.
The vaults decay, the rivers weep. Our arms blow red with blood, the wounds dry in sulphurs scars. We kick and shove, our limbs animated by madness. Our tongues no longer needed. We have become our own unmaking. We have soiled our humanity. Glancing in mirrors we see the reflected wolves. Our mouths bloody, our hands the same. Bend down and renounce our height. We shall walk on four legs, and bear no name, for we have lost individuality. We shall not differentiate ourselves form one another. Yet we shall kill ourselves all the same. In time we will understand the nature of our actions, and in time forget the motives of our regression. In place of thought we shall obey instinct. And my friends, I ask you, my dearest tribunal, were we not to turn to this rape sooner?