An even strobe; a pulse,
Of flashing hatelights,
Synthetic souls,
Massproduced, hammered into shapes,

A sign of times,
Dreams turn into systems,
A new way, a new breed...
Implanted in our minds,

New intelligence arise,
In emptied bodies,
Turgid flesh,
Tested, through eternal spastic fits,

Through not known codes,
Mother Machine,
In genocide,
Now scorns a dying race,

Evolution....
In reverse,
Now it's time for me,
Changing....
What am I to be?
Contorted,
An eternity....
Defeated,
By the new Machine.


Penned by my hand on the 13th of Daedalan, in the year 242 AF.