This story poem can be summarised as existentialism and dread upon the realisation that it’s probably best to just not ever pass on ones genes if they wish no harm to come the next generation due to seeing the harsh reality of the state of the world in todays age.

Told from the perspective of the God within his heart that he had called upon for guidance and grace.

If your double helix here shall end
It will produce no offspring –
are your genes really that mangled?
You may be destined to die,
and end your line here
As for your possible future generations
existence and suffering you do fear

No immortality for your blood line,
for you shall be strangled
Auto-asphyxiation without the erotica,
what a fitting end
Although to you that end would be fine,
for the sins committed
add up to a crime
It’s not happening just now though
as so much more is yet to be done
albeit you probably won’t be having much fun

In a mental prison to serve some time
Self-afflicted suffering,
so grand and dear
Though it’s never enough

(from the deepest depths of their mind, they hear these painful cries – for they believe they deserve it. so broadcast it to the universe they do, just on the off chance it gets recieved.)
“It must be more tough
It must be more tough
More tough
The torture more rough
Rough and tough
Please make it more rough“

So, on the God that quietly dwells inside of you
You turned to and so kindly asked –
“Help me through this journey,
help me complete my task.
I need punishment,
pure fear stricken within me.
To keep me in check,
I need a taste of divinity.”
So I heard your beckon call
and reached out my golden hand
A long gruelling task
for me will not be bland

You shall be recovered,
resumed, and un-excommunicated
For your soul belongs upon a mighty pedestal
of divine marble and gold,
crafted by the great demi-gods
Guarded by their multi-headed dogs
The Hydra, Cerberus, and a small pug named Rod

DNA – travels through time
Albeit only one second per second for you,
but on a generational level
it’s about 25 years per 25 years
For the human species as a whole
this is like your second per second
Because on the greater scale
25 years is just but one second
(a slowing of time occurs as the object
experiencing it grows and scales in mass and density)

The double helix structure
makes up the stringy line
A string so long,
spans so many generations
A string so fine
Just one snip
can end space and time

At least for the observer
on the level of perspective
Severed from the one consciousness
for the rest of eternity
Poor observer
it is but so very sad
But the soul of the observer
will journey back home
To the land of the spirits

A realm that exists
adjacent to reality
The spiritual realm
normally visible only through our helm
At the time of the moon
when it replaces the sun
Up in the sky
Oh boy, this is fun

Dreams so grand, so great, so colossal
Compared to this reality we are but a fossil
Already dead in the lands of the spirits
For the matter of physical exists not
It is the dark matter that we think exists
when in fact it does not
Just remnants of gravity in the spiritual,
can you smell the anti-matter…?

Hmm – invisible