It weighed heavy on them both—creator and creation—this aching silence.
Faith was losing its grip.
No solace, only solitude,
a fate imposed—forever impute.

“For I have created a world just for you, yet you do not thrive. Have I not blessed you enough with eternity?”

The screech of metal filled the laboratory, and the man shook his head, lost in disbelief.
“How can I be blessed if I stand alone? ...

As always, we want the easiest and quickest route to a solution. I don’t blame you; I once did the same, and look at me now—I’m a force to be reckoned with—a magnet.

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