In our great human audacity
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Some termed divine prodigy
We speak simple to Doom:
“Go away!” heedless of gloom
In his face around us shadows fall-
Then turn, flailing eyes and limbs all,
Hunted and enmeshed in nice gray lines
That coiled tightened like living vines
Finally entering lips parted in awe
Through throats screaming...Foul!
The conscious shape reality.