It all starts "oneday",
Just like any other day.
The process for the ascendency of man,
A secret, yet not very much so.

It begins with a very specific question.
A question, questioning purpose.
It assumes priority as never before known.
It throws in a wedge at all proclivities,
Blocking the path of frivolities.

Purpose must be found,
Purpose must be known,
For the precipice have been reached.
It is now therefore to fly in triumph,
Or decsend into Oblivion.

Every element gives credence to it.
A screech from tyres,
Every waft of the curtain,
A memory from another lifetime
A sudden sense of urgency announces it.

It becomes all too imminent.
A necessity that can no longer be ignored.
But as we've encouraged providence,
As we've spent a lifetime in preparation,
With grace, we shall rise to the occasion.