With his frail lips Man smacks away the unsavoury taste of penitence that lingers upon the tip of his tongue. He draws his last breath with a defiant rumble. A final thought before the end, the last of hubris’s tricks a grasp for validation and catharsis: I am the master, with me dies the world.

A flower blooms amidst a concrete jungle. Rivers break their dams to *water*’s rapturous applause. Sun-broke clouds continue onward in their never-ending journey.

Earth, magnanimous to the last, observes the death of humanity’s reign in silence. She does not speak the obvious truth: they were never in charge. She is too wise for bitterness, too hardy to mourn. A new era beckons, but the planet remains steadfast. A forever silent Eden.