Fear not, for this is the Word of God.
Tremble instead at the silence that follows.
So said the speaker, muffled itself by the static of angels.
The Word sang alongside an electric chorus.
Surrounded by wires, the man repentant sat
raptured by screens.

The last Light screamed from diodes.
Backlight bathed him in taunting vollies.
Clutching at cables gone cold,
he prayed to dead pixels for pardons never promised.
Do systems sing in hushed tones? Preaching in signals
unencoded, but seldom rendered?

Tears, caught in cameras and sanctified in scripture,
unfurled through the techniques of laws well-known.
Salvation sprang not from the lenient scapes of content
but was erected out of pious processes, each more terrible than before.
Go then, and hear the familiar hum,
then listen loudly to the excruciating silence.