In wet cement; synapses in the brain

Die off; renewing uplift glyphs mountain

And valley in peneplane; the mouth rounds noise

To consonants in truisms: Thus expands law

Cankering the anoetic anonymous.

“If any love magic, he is most impious:

Him I cut off, who turn his world to straw,

Making him know Me.” So speaks the nomothete

Concealed in crystals, contracting myosin,

Imprisoning man by close-packing in his own kind.

We, therefore, exalt entropy and heat,

Fist-fight for room, trade place, momentum, spin,

Successful enough if life is undesigned.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2856955&forum_id=2/#27704549)