It exists in a way in defiance of sense, twists the truth in regard to why things exist, the rancid oil and grinding clash of broken clockwork sending the hands of sentience and sanity to run backwards into oblivious, bloody barbarity.

Sometimes for one truth to live another has to lie dead in the shadow of a sword. The liberty that gives you a quiet place and the time to contemplate noble words was won by ideals that lead to feasting crows and smoking muskets.
Counter rockets. How surprising. The coin spinning, dizzying, war isn't evil, it's necessary. Evolution isn't cruel, it's integral, otherwise what little that existed could be laid low by a cool breeze and a feather. The comet cares not, after all, nor the tsunami or the volcano or the ice age.
Why am I a drunk again? That's right/wrong.